


I Can Take the Weight.

by Nicknack2814



Series: Lay Your World On Me [1]
Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angels, Crossover, Demons, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Monsters, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Reunions, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Survival, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 60,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25730263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicknack2814/pseuds/Nicknack2814
Summary: Rosanna Winchester finds herself stranded in Georgia when the next apocalypse strikes. This one, however, is here to stay.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Lay Your World On Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866403
Comments: 53
Kudos: 119





	1. Paranoid

**Author's Note:**

> So this is basically a reboot of my story We Can Make It If We Try. I didn't like where it was going or who Rosie had become so I started again.   
> If you've read the original, I'm sorry I won't be finishing it.   
> If you haven't read the original, I hope you enjoy this one instead.   
> I've also made the decision to write the only from Rosie and Daryl's perspective, because having too many characters got way too complicated which is why I ended up needing to ditch the first version.

"What the fuck ya doin' up there?"

Rosie looked down from where she was perched in the tree. "Hiding," she answered, staring down at the youngest Dixon brother.

"From what?" he scoffed.

"Everything." She stared at him, daring him to say something. Instead he just shrugged before walking off into the woods.

Rosie was still amazed at how quickly his footfalls went from perceptible to completely silent in the time it took him to break through the treeline. She watched in bored curiosity the way his body moved as he wound his way through the undergrowth, only wrenching her gaze from him once he'd completely disappeared from sight.

She sighed and looked back at the rest of the group, scrutinizing the way they moved instead. Looking for any signs that they weren't all human.

Rosanna Winchester wasn't really a Winchester at all. She wasn't sure what she was, just that she'd been on her own nearly all her life. She couldn't remember her legal last name, if she even had one. She could only remember a tangled up mess of memories that included being beaten, burnt and branded by a mass of faceless strangers until she was old enough to run for it and make it on her own.

Sam and Dean became family around the same time, when she ran into a nest of vamps, because God forbid she'd actually catch a fucking break. When they'd asked where home was she didn't have an answer, and she hadn't been more than fourteen at the time. They took her in, because what else were they going to do. That was eight years ago, and she'd been their little sister ever since. Sporting the name Winchester to boot.

Her eyes raked over different members of the group as she tried not to think about her brothers in all but blood. Ed, Carol, Sophia - Ed was evil, but human evil. Glenn, T-dog - dudes were practically angels, but the real kind, not the heavenly-power asshole kind. Shane, Lori, Carl, Dale, Andrea, Amy - all human. Scared, nervous, maybe a little dangerous because of it. But human. They all were. But it didn't mean they always would be. So she watched. She was always watching.

Rosie hadn't spoken to Sam or Dean in nearly a week. She'd begged them to stay in the bunker, pleaded, even screamed down the phone at them. Her last words to Sam, when he wouldn't agree with her, had been 'well fuck you too then' and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. She supposed she probably wouldn't change it even if someone told her they'd be the last words she _ever_ spoke to him. They were definitely _her_ words.

She gazed down across the quarry, looking at all the people who'd had the same idea she'd had. Get off the road, hide, wait it out for a bit. She'd seen the planes fly over the city, she'd seen the city burn because of it. She'd hated how helpless she felt. They were always able to do something; her, Sam and Dean. They'd always been able to stop it before it got this far. But this...this just came out of nowhere. It hit them all like a fucking freight train.

The messages had been short and sweet after that. Dean told her to sit tight, wait there, he'd find her. Rosie told him she'd wait as long as she could but she wouldn't wait forever. She wouldn't stick around if the fat lady started singing. He told her to watch the woods, remember the monsters in the dark. The monsters who's food supply had just dropped dramatically. Rosie shuddered as she thought about that, casting her gaze back into the woods and watching for the smallest movements. Daryl was out there alone. She should have gone with him, not that he'd have let her.

She'd been watching the group for only a couple of days now. Shane had taken control almost immediately, but considering he was still in uniform and these people were trying to hold on to every scrap of sanity they could, it wasn't unsurprising. Ed kept him, his wife and his daughter as separate from the group as he could. Rosie hated him. He reminded her of the faceless strangers. Her scars itched any time she set her eyes on him for too long.

Everyone else seemed to want to lean on each other, at least as best they could. It was like they were trying to claw back any semblance of their old reality. But the Dixon brothers were different. Not in a bad way, just...in an easy way. Like the reality everyone else had lived for wasn't something they were all that hung up on.

Dean had told her to find out what she could about the group and about the area they were in. If anyone went missing from the quarry or the woods on a regular basis. Horror stories. That kind of thing. Her gaze settled on Merle. If she was going to ask anyone, he'd be the best one. Wouldn't tell her that they were going through enough without adding that sort of shit to it. Scaring the kids. Stirring the pot. She glanced back at the woods one more time before dismounting the tree and wondering over to the truck Merle was sitting in.

She put a foot on the wheel and hoisted herself up, swinging a leg over the side of the truck bed and coming to stand in front of him.

"What the fuck ya think ya doin'?" Merle drawled, looking up at her in disbelief.

Rosie ignored him and plonked her ass along from his, resting her back against the cab. "I'm bored."

"Be bored somewhere else," he said, still with a look of shock on his face. "I ain't exactly been screaming friendly," he snapped.

Rosie smirked and set her eyes on him. "I know. Makes for a nice change."

Merle frowned. "There's something ain't right with ya girl. How old are ya, anyhow? Can't be more'n a teen..."

"I'm legal, if that's what you're asking," Rosie said, raising a single eyebrow at him as his sweeping but appreciative gaze found it's way back to her face.

He laughed and shook his head, licking his lips. "How bored are ya?"

Rosie scoffed. "Not that bored," she said.

Merle laughed again. "Can't blame a guy for tryin'," he said.

"You know any good horror stories from around these parts? People going missing in the woods? Ghost stories? Animal attacks? That kinda thing?" Rosie looked up at him, chewing on her lip. She wasn't sure if he was likely to laugh at her again or try and slap some sense into her.

"Yer a whole different kinda crazy, ain't ya?" he said, staring curiously at her now.

Rosie shrugged.

"Wha's wrong with the horror story we've jus' been thrown into?" he asked, his eyes flicking across her face, watching her closely.

Rosie shrugged again. "Said I was bored, didn't I?"

Merle scoffed. He paused for a second, going back to what he was doing before Rosie had unceremoniously invited herself into his space. She noticed he was making bolts for the crossbow Daryl had taken into the woods.

"Ain't no real horror stories I heard come outta them woods," Merle said. "Closest thing to a horror story I ever heard was Darylena tellin' me he saw a chupacabra some years ago. Like them things exist." He scoffed again and shook his head. "He told the whole camp 'bout it first night we was here. Dumbass."

Rosie fought the growl that rose up in her throat, but she couldn't fight the words. "Dead people are walking, I'm not sure you can argue it was all in his head anymore."

Merle looked up and frowned at her. "I didn' take ya ta be the kinda stupid that believes in that shit..."

Rosie barked out a laugh and shook her head. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, fixing determined eyes on him. "I didn't take you to be the kind of stupid not to."

"Wha's that s'pposed ta mean?" he huffed.

Rosie shrugged. "I figured you were smart enough to know the difference between improbable and impossible. And since the impossible just became possible, stands to reason the improbable also became probable."

"Do I look like the kinda guy who knows wha' all those long an' fancy words mean?" he growled.

Rosie raised both her eyebrows. "You look like the kind of guy who's happy for everyone to assume he doesn't."

"Screw you bitch," he snapped.

"Jerk," Rosie said without thinking.

"What d'you call me?" Merle cried, looking at her in disbelief again.

"Sorry, force of habit. My brothers...if one of us says bitch the other says jerk. And vice versa." Rosie took a deep breath to steady herself. She missed them so much.

"Jerk," Merle muttered.

"Bitch," Rosie said, smirking at him.

Merle chuckled and went back to whittling the bolt in his hands. "So...how come ya came to talk to me insteada any o' the others?" He nodded his head at the rest of the group. "Couple of 'em don't look best pleased at the company ya chose ta keep," he snickered sardonically.

Rosie scoffed, looking at the surreptitious, not-as-subtle-as-they-thought frowns from a few of the group members that kept glancing in their direction. "If they knew the life I lived before this, none of them would want a goddamn thing to do with me."

Merle stopped what he was doing and looked across at her in surprise. "Whattabout me?"

Rosie lifted her eyes to meet his. "Depends on which kind of stupid you are," she said.

Merle sighed. "Ya gonna tell me ya seen a chupacabra? A monster in the woods?" he huffed, going back to the bolt.

Rosie scoffed again. "I've seen a monster alright. More than one. And not all of them live in the woods." She swallowed as she twisted her fingers, unable for the second time to keep her words off her tongue. "Not all of them look like fucking monsters either," she muttered.

Merle stilled for a beat before carrying on like he hadn't heard her. "So more'n a blood sucking dog, then?"

Rosie shrugged. "You gonna look at me like I'm crazy if I say yes?"

"Probably," Merle said. "But ain't we all crazy?"

Rosie chuckled. "We are now."

She sat with Merle for a while longer, watching him make bolt after bolt. She ignored the odd looks they were getting from the rest of the group and just relished the silence that didn't need filling. Sometimes you just need to sit and be still, something a lot of them didn't really understand. She hadn't completely forgotten Merle's savage tongue or harsh perspective, but she preferred his complacent attitude to the false bravado nearly everyone else was exhibiting. Like they could still judge a man with the same rules they did a few days ago. 

Rosie saw the moment Daryl realised she was sat with his brother. She watched him emerge from the tree line, sweep his gaze over the camp and then falter when his eyes landed on the truck. The small furrow on his brow was barely perceptible but Rosie was well versed in even the most subtle changes in expression; its what had kept her alive for so long. Daryl was confused, and ever so slightly curious. But not as curious as Merle had been. 

"Whatchoo doin' here?" he muttered, scowling at her as he slung the squirrels into the truck bed by her feet. She didn't even flinch. He uncoupled the tailgate and let it swing down.

"Came looking for horror stories," Rosie said, shrugging. "I got bored."

Daryl looked at her like she was a special kind of crazy. "The one we're in not doin' if for ya no more?" he scoffed.

Rosie smirked. "No, not really. Seems like it's just gonna be more of the same thing."

Merle snickered and gave her a sideways kind of look. Daryl's frown deepened.

"Merle says you saw a chupacabra," Rosie said, looking back at the younger Dixon.

"Told the camp 'bout that firs' night we was here," Daryl growled. "If ya were payin' any attention ya'da known that."

Rosie rolled her eyes. "I was on watch. 'Cause no one else seemed to care if we all got fucked."

Daryl glared up at her. "I didn' ask no one to look out for me."

"I didn't say I was looking out for you," Rosie growled back. "Just 'cause you're tuned into the world as it is and not how it was, doesn't mean the rest of them are."

Daryl seemed to stop and study her then. Like she'd seen something in him that he was trying to hide. "Maybe they don' deserve to live then..."

Rosie scoffed. "If you honestly thought that, you wouldn't be sharing your squirrel," she said, raising an eyebrow at him and giving him a mischievous look.

Merle howled with laughter. "She got ya there, Saint Darylena!"

"Shut up Merle," Daryl snapped, his ears going red as he threw his brother a dirty look.

Rosie kicked Merle's thigh with the toe of her boot just to get him to stop. "Hey, I'm under no illusion that you'd leave these people to starve. Some of us don't have the luxury of turning it off. No matter how they look at us." She let out a long breath as she surveyed the group again, watching the jumpy way they moved around while trying not to make it look like they were staring. "Assholes..." she muttered.

Daryl was now looking as perplexed as she'd ever seen him, which wasn't hard since she'd only known him four days, maybe five at a push. Time was already becoming relative.   
He leaned on the open bed of the truck and looked at her, his eyes feeling like they were piercing her skin. "Wha' would someone like you know 'bout the way people look atcha?"

Rosie glared at him, forcing her eyes to meet his. "I never presumed to know you. Don't presume to know me."

Daryl growled at that. "Come on..." He waved at her and scoffed. "Ya can't be more'n a kid-"

"She's legal," Merle said, smirking at Daryl and throwing her a wink.

"God Merle, please don' tell me ya asked," he groaned, looking more than a little exasperated.

Rosie chuckled. "No, I told him." She shrugged. "I'm twenty two."

"Fine young thing an' all," Merle said, eyeing her up again. "Shame ya weren't that bored."

Rosie snickered. "There's the end of the world Merle, and then there's The End of the World."

Daryl snorted at that and shot Rosie a rare smile, his eyes alight with amusement.

Merle chose to pout. "I didn' ask ya come sit with me. Bitch."

"Jerk," Rosie said before Daryl could bark at him.

"She believes ya by the way, lil brother," Merle drawled. "'Bout the chupacabra. Damn near jumped down my throat when I said I might not."

"S'not like it's the only thing come out my mouth ya won' believe," Daryl huffed. "Took ya long enough to believe me when I said the dead was walkin'."

Merle just repeated him in mocking tones while Rosie rolled her eyes.

"How come ya talkin' 'bout monsters?" Daryl asked, keeping his eyes down as he pulled a dead squirrel towards him.

"I wanted to make sure the only thing I had to worry about was the dead," Rosie said, choosing her words carefully.

"Ya seriously believe there's other stuff in them woods?" he asked, still not looking at her. Merle was staying oddly quiet.

Rosie shrugged, resting her head back on her bent knees as she looked at the tree line. "I don't know. That's the problem." She paused for a moment, listening to the sounds coming from within. "I don't come from around here. I don't know the stories and whether to put any stock in them. I don't know..."

"Wha' sort o' shit ya need ta know?" Daryl asked, still focused on the dead squirrel in his hands.

Rosie sighed and rolled her head around on her knees to look at him. "Do people go missing in there a lot? Or like, every few years or so at almost the exact same time? Any animal attacks reported recently?"

Daryl frowned at her and shook his head. "Nah, nothin' like that."

"Told ya so," Merle laughed. "Told ya it was all in his imagination."

"I didn' imagine nothin' Merle," Daryl grumbled. "I know what I saw."

"Ran the fuck away from it too," Merle snickered. "Pussy pants."

Rosie rolled her eyes. "Merle I would pay you in sexual favours to see you go up against a chupacabra and not piss your pants or die screaming."

Merle scowled at her. "Ya don' know nothin' 'bout me. I's a damn good hunter and a wicked shot-"

"And a chupacabra can't be killed by shooting a bolt at it," Rosie said patiently. "You have to decapitate it, with a silver blade."

"An' I s'ppose lil twenty two year old you managed ta take one down all on yer sweet lonesome, huh?" Merle mocked.

Rosie shook her head. "No. I was eighteen at the time, and I didn't 'take it down'...I was bait."

Daryl's head snapped up from the squirrel to look at her. "You what?"

"I was bait."

"Bait? Wha' kinda asshole sets a eighteen year old up ta be bait for that kinda thing?" His eyes were boring into hers now and she couldn't tear away.

"I volunteered," Rosie ground out.   
Daryl scoffed. "Ya volunteer for a lot a stupid shit?"

Rosie snorted, breaking whatever tension had manifested between the two of them. "That's one way of putting it."

"You ain't kiddin' are ya?" He shook his head, looking back at the squirrel.

"Hey, if it wasn't in your head, you can't argue it was in mine," Rosie muttered.

"Maybe it was in both o' y'alls?" Merle laughed, pushing himself to his feet. "Either way, I ain't sittin' round while ya make more problems than we already got." With that, he jumped over the side of the truck and started wondering away towards the tent he shared with Daryl.

Rosie watched him go only to find Daryl staring intently at her when her gaze swung back round to him. "What?" She frowned.

"Jus' wonderin' wha' ya still doin' in the truck?"

Rosie folded her arms and leaned back against the cab like a stubborn child. "Its not my fault your brother's a baby."

Daryl let out a faint snort of surprise. "Never let him hear ya say that. He'll gut ya faster than I can gut a squirrel and I gut squirrels really fuckin' fast."

Rosie nodded, chewing on her lip to quell her smirk. She looked at the second squirrel that Daryl was already halfway done with and then back up at him. "How'd you do that?"

"What?"

"Skin it and cut it up so you can eat it," she said.

"With a real sharp knife an' a steady hand," he said.

"Teach me," Rosie said, shuffling forwards so her ass was level with the pile of squirrels.

Daryl scoffed at her. "What the fuck ya wanna learn this shit for?"

Rosie shrugged. "You might die tomorrow and I figure it's a decent skill to have."

He glared at her. "I ain't dying. Not tomorrow. Not any day soon."

Rosie smiled and nodded. "If I had to pick one person in this camp that's likely to make it all the way, it'd be you. But it doesn't mean I'm right and it doesn't mean you are either. And it doesn't mean I'm gonna be around for the whole ride. I might just have to meet you on the other side."

Daryl part-huffed and part-sighed. "Girl you are all kinds of crazy."

Rosie chuckled. "Yeah...Merle was definitely right about that."

He went back to preparing the squirrel meat, this time explaining his movements and the things he was doing so she could follow. 

..............

Rosie woke as the first rays of light broke the horizon. She'd been asleep maybe three hours, and while it was nowhere near long enough, it was going to have to do. She wriggled out of her sleeping bag, rolling it up and throwing it over the top of the back seats into the trunk. She'd chosen to stay inside her car instead of a tent. At least the dead couldn't unlock the doors and anything living would have to make some semblance of a noise to get to her. She shivered as she reached for her jacket; the morning had never been her friend. It was always cold to her no matter the time of year. She supposed this apocalypse at least came at the right time. It wasn't winter and for that she was thankful.

She quietly opened the door and slipped out. The campfire from the night before was still smoldering and she hoped it might offer some small comfort in the form of heat, even if it was just to warm her bones. As she treaded softly over, she noticed Daryl perched on a log next to it, gazing into the burning embers.

"Hey," she sighed softly, sitting down across from him.

Daryl nodded back without looking at her.

"You're up early," she said, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.

"Says the girl who never sleeps," he muttered.

Rosie sighed again and groaned, letting her head drop back between her shoulder blades while she looked at the sky. "I'll sleep when I'm dead, apparently."

Daryl scoffed. "Depends...a lot o' the dead ain't exactly sleepin' much nowadays."

Rosie huffed and rolled her head forward, trying to ease out the aches in her neck as she did. "Yeah...hadn't exactly thought about it like that." She shivered. "Do me a favor, yeah? If it looks like I'm gonna end up a geek, you put a bolt or a bullet straight between my eyes, okay?"

"Ya wan' me ta shoot ya?" He was actually looking at her now, frowning one of his disbelieving frowns.

Rosie shrugged. "I'd rather you shoot me than let me turn. I wanna still be me when I die. All me."

Daryl shook his head, the twitch of a smile on his lips.

"All kinds of crazy, remember?" she said, smirking at him.

He chuckled. "Ya could be crazier. I seen crazier."

Rosie grinned. "Merle have a lot of fun with crazy does he?"

"S'like he can sniff 'em out," Daryl said, shaking his head again. "S'like normal means invisible to 'im..."

"Normal's overrated," Rosie said. "I've never been normal a day in my life."

Daryl let out a soft groan. "I figured. Normal don' tend to come sniffin' round Merle neither..."

"Hey!" Rosie laughed softly, throwing a small stick at him from across the way. "I didn't go sniffing around your brother!"

Daryl was not hiding his amusement all that well. "Sure ya weren't."

"I wasn't!" Rosie laughed again, throwing another stick. "God!"

"Hey! I'm not gonna judge," Daryl said, still teasing her as he held his hands up. "Merle likes crazy, you like old guys. S'nothin' ta do with me."

"Take that back!" Rosie hissed, standing up and stalking around to his side of the fire, giving him a few friendly slaps on the arm. The muscles underneath were more solid than she expected but then he did swing that crossbow around like it was practically weightless.

"Make me," Daryl sniggered, catching her wrists and using them to manoeuvre her onto the log next to him.

"Okay! Okay! Let me go!" she squealed quietly, pulling her arms free of him. It was nice to feel carefree even if it was only for a moment. She smiled at him as he shoved her, doing his best not to smile back.

Rosie sat silently for a few minutes just staring into the fire. Daryl didn't move either, just sat and stared with her. Rosie found it both odd and unsurprising that she could sit in the quiet with him and not feel the need to fill it. There were few people she felt comfortable saying nothing to, and she hadn't expected Daryl Dixon to be one of them.

"How long have you been awake for?" Rosie asked, once she felt like conversation again.

"Never went ta sleep," Daryl said with a shrug.

"You never...why?" Rosie said, looking at him in surprise.

Daryl huffed. "'Cause o' you."

Rosie snorted. "I didn't realise I was so distracting," she said, shooting him a teasing look much like he'd shot her earlier.

"Not like that!" He growled, prodding her side, making her jump and shriek all at the same time.

Rosie glared at him, her cheeks turning cherry red. She couldn't remember the last time a guy managed to make her blush. Asshole. "So why is it my fault you never went to bed?"

"Merle was havin' a bit o' fun thinkin' 'bout ya- ah!" Daryl laughed as she shoved him clean off the log. "Alrigh' alrigh'..." he huffed. "That stuff ya said 'bout there bein' more'n dead things in the woods..." He looked up at her from the ground where he was still sat and shrugged. "Made me think we need a lookout."

"I thought they all deserved to die?" Rosie said.

Daryl shrugged again. "Maybe. Maybe we all do. But no one's gonna give a crap 'bout us 'cept us, so..."

Rosie let out a sardonic little scoff. "You got that right."

Daryl hauled himself back up onto the log and dusted his hands off. "Ya different from the rest o' them," he said, nodding his head in the general direction of everyone else.

"I could say the same for you," Rosie murmured back.

Daryl shook his head. "Nah...I meant it in a good way. I ain't different in a good way."

Rosie sighed and shook her head, too. "Define good," she said, giving him a hard stare.

Daryl frowned. "Huh?"

"I said, define good." Rosie growled and shook her head again. "Good is a goddamn construct. I'm not good. No one is."

"Why'd ya sit with Merle?" Daryl asked. "Why'd ya leave the rest of 'em ta come talk to my asshole brother?"

Rosie shrugged. "I knew he wouldn't shoot me down when I asked him weird and mostly irrelevant questions."

"How?"

She snickered softly. "'Cause I figured if he could legally fuck me, he'd treat me like it."

Daryl scoffed but nodded, leaning forwards towards the fire with his elbows resting on his knees. "Wha' 'bout now? Now ya got ya answers?"

Rosie shrugged again. "Apart from the utter bullshit he spouts at the top of his voice...he's not all bad. At least he gets it. Same as you."

"Gets what?"

"This. What we are now. What we've got to do now." Rosie looked up at the rest of the still and sleeping camp. "That we can't ever go back to normal. That this won't last for just a few weeks. That the whole world is broken and burning and there's not a damn thing we can do about it, except burn along with it."

Daryl caught her gaze and held it. "You don't think any of them get that?"

"No, I don't." She sighed and rubbed tired hands over her face. "Their worlds were never on fire to begin with."

She half expected Daryl to say something to that, to question how she knew that his world as it were, had been on fire. Or that she could tell he'd just burnt along with it. It didn't surprise her though, when he turned his gaze back to the fire and chose not to speak. She'd figured him out to be a man of very few words, but the fact that she'd shared so many with him over the last day and a half had forced to her to reevaluate. Daryl had plenty to say when the saying wasn't important. He could talk all day when he wasn't sharing anything significant, when he was just messing with her, when no one was watching. 

"Well, looky looky, wha' we got here?" Merle drawled as he crawled his way out of his tent and stomped on up to the dwindling campfire. "I wondered where ya got to lil brother. Didn' think it'd be gettin' lucky," he howled with laughter.

Rosie rolled her eyes, ignoring the fresh blush on her cheeks. Stupid Dixon brothers.

"Shut up Merle," Daryl snapped, his cheeks a light pink too. "We weren't doin' nothin'."

"So ya was doin' somethin' then?" He grinned, leering at the two of them.

"Merle," Daryl growled again. "Shut up or fuck off."

"I'm sensing I'm touchin' a nerve or two," he snickered.

"Ya ain't touchin' nothin' which is the goddamn problem," Daryl barked. "Ya jus' gon' keep pushin' till ya do! God Merle! Why ya gotta wake up so damn bored every fuckin' day!"

Merle shrugged. "'Cause there ain't much else ta do."

Rosie snorted at the almost innocent way Merle was now looking at Daryl. Like his answer was practically penance enough.

Daryl glared at her. "Don' encourage him."

Rosie pressed her lips together between her teeth and nodded at Daryl.

"I'm serious. 'Less you wan' him gettin' on ya tits as well as mine," he grumbled.

Merle's eyes lit up. "I'm more'n happy ta get on yer tits love. You jus' let me know."

Daryl huffed and scowled up at him as he came closer. "Merle. Leave her alone..."

"Why? I thought we established that you been doin' enough o' leavin' the poor woman alone for the both 'o us?" Merle chuckled. "Maybe she wants it." He threw Rosie a teasing wink and licked his lips.

"Merle!" Daryl barked.

Rosie shook her head and laughed. "I know where to find you Dixon, if I ever find that I want you." She grinned at Merle as Daryl stared at her.

None of them noticed as Shane emerged from his tent and came to join them, narrowing his eyes at finding the two older men with the seemingly teenage girl.

"Everything okay up here?" he asked, forcing their gazes to swing up to look at him.

"Yeah, we're good Shane," Rosie answered for them, watching as Daryl's face set in a hard frown and Merle grinned provokingly up at the sheriff.

"I thought I heard a few raised voices?" Shane said, looking from the men to Rosie and back again.

"We were just messing around," Rosie said, shooting him an easy smile.

Shane frowned at her, looking all kinds of worried. "Listen, sweetheart, little young thing like you-"

"I'm twenty two," Rosie cut him off.

"Still young..." Shane said, although Rosie wasn't sure if he was reminding her or himself.

"I think my lil brother Daryl here has got ya beat, Sheriff," Merle laughed. "I'm pretty sure he saw sweet, young Rosanna here first..."

Daryl groaned and shot Merle a filthy look.

"I'm sorry?" Shane growled. "I wasnt aware she was some kinda prize?" He puffed himself out, knight in shining armour style.

"She ain't," Daryl said through gritted teeth. "My brother's jus' a asshole."

Rosie was too busy staring at Merle in shock. How the hell did he know her full name? She hadn't told anyone. Hadn't even written it down anywhere.

"You sure it's just your brother that's the asshole?" Shane asked, one hand on the gun strapped to his hip.

Daryl scoffed and stood up to face him. "You got somethin' you wanna say to me, say it! You wanna call me an asshole, call me an asshole!" He stepped forwards, flinging his arms about as he did.

"Seems to me like I won't have to if you keep going the way you are," Shane said, putting out his hand, palm up. "Seems to me like your not far off proving it..."

Daryl hissed. "Hell man, can you not jus' say wha' you mean? Gotta hide behind a bunch o' words tha' don' mean nothin'! Jesus! Least I have the balls to call you an asshole and mean it!"

Shane glared at him. "I'm not the asshole here. I'm not the one trying to get inside the head of a kid nearly half my age-"

"I ain't tryin' to get in her head!" Daryl roared.

"Nah, 'cause he ain't gotta try," Merle laughed.

"Shut up Merle," Rosie muttered, getting to her own feet. "Shane...we're good, okay? Nothing awful is happening. No one is overstepping any boundaries-"

"Yet," Merle snickered, winking at her.

Rosie growled at him. "Merle..." she murmured through gritted teeth.

"Look, Rosie...I just wanted to check you're okay, okay? Last few days, most of us got pretty close. I just care about you, and everyone else. End of the world an' all, you can't be too careful, now can you?" Shane shrugged, giving her a roguish kind of grin which made a nasty shiver run down her spine.

"No, I suppose not," Rosie said, forcing a smile onto her face. "Thanks...for looking out for me. I appreciate it. I care too. About everyone."

Shane tipped his head at her and turned to leave. "That wasn't too hard, now was it, boys?"

Daryl grunted at the guy while Merle continued to just beam at him. Rosie waited for Shane to be well out of earshot before stomping over to Merle and smacking hard on his arm.

"How the hell do you know my full name?" she snapped, smacking him some more.

"It's on ya license!" Merle cried, holding his arms up in defence as he stood up.

"You broke into my car?!" Rosie hissed, looking aghast at him.

"I didn' take nothin'," he huffed, walking off and looking at her like she was nuts.

"Why does he seem to think that makes it okay?" Rosie asked, turning back to Daryl.

"'Cause he's Merle."

Rosie growled to no one but herself, not really sure what to do with her frustration. She glanced up at Daryl to see a funny kind of look on his face and she frowned. "What?"

"Rosanna?" His lips were twitching.

Rosie huffed. "My mom was into Toto okay? It was a miracle I wasn't called Africa."

Daryl sniggered. "Sure thing, Annie."

"No. No one calls me Annie. Don't call me Annie." She glared, pointing a harsh finger at him.

Daryl sniggered again.

"Daryl I'm serious!" Rosie cried. "Please don't start calling me Annie..." She sounded more exasperated than insistent, mostly because she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

"I can't promise nothin'," he said, smirking at her. "I'll try, but, ya know...might jus' slip out every once in a while."

Rosie growled again and dropped back onto the log. "Asshole," she muttered. It only made Daryl laugh. 

...............

Several hours later, Rosie settled herself at the edge of the camp, near the tree line, to clean a few of her guns and sharpen a knife or two. Her eyes kept flicking to the woods and back, listening to the sounds inside. She was still intent on watching out, and she'd hated that she'd let Daryl wonder back out there all on his own again. It was as she was starting to think about venturing in after him, a stupid idea if ever there was one, that Glenn came and sat down across from her.

"Hey, Rosie," he said, smiling at her.

"Hey Glenn," she said with a nod.

Glenn nodded back, a small grin on his face. "How're you doing?"

Rosie scoffed but there was no scorn in it. "I'm okay," she said. "Could be better. Could be worse."

Rosie liked Glenn. He was probably the closest person to her in age and he had this awkward but honest way about him. She'd found herself in a pretty intense conversation with him concerning Star Wars the second night at camp, something that cemented their blossoming friendship quite quickly.

Glenn chuckled. "Yeah...things are really crazy right now."

"Dude, things are really crazy. Period. Its never not gonna be like this anymore," Rosie said, shooting him a sort of apologetic grimace.

Glenn sighed and shook his head, twisting his fingers around the grass at his feet and tugging on it. "I know. Sometimes I just like to pretend though."

Rosie chuckled. "I get that."

He let out a breath. "So, why are you hanging out with the Dixon brothers?" he blurted, scrunching his face up as he said it.

"Shane ask you to find out?" Rosie asked, raising an eyebrow and giving him a flat look.

Glenn shrugged. "He's worried about you."

"He's known me less than a week."

"Rosie-"

"I'm not hanging out with the Dixons," she growled. "I've had two conversations with them. That's it."

"Yeah, but they were long ones," Glenn muttered. "And the guys are nearly twice our age-"

"What the fuck has that got to do with anything!" Rosie snapped. "The whole world ended, I'm not sure it matters how many times we've each been around the fucking sun!"

"Okay okay!" Glenn said, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Jeez! No one gave a crap when I spent half a fucking day talking to Dale, and he's definitely more than twice my age!"

"Dale doesn't spew racist, sexist bullshit every time be opens his mouth," Glenn grumbled, shooting her an unimpressed look.

Rosie part-huffed and part-sighed. "I never said they weren't assholes. And Daryl isn't that bad. He just doesn't tell Merle to shut up."

Glenn pursed his lips. "They aren't good guys, Rosie."

Rosie scowled at him. "They've fed us well enough to not be classed as bad ones though."

Glenn looked rightly guilty at that.

"You can always trust an asshole to be an asshole," Rosie said.

Glenn sniggered. "That much is true."

"I'm not hanging out with them," she said again. "No more than I'm hanging out with you or anyone else."

"I get it."

Rosie nodded and went back to sorting her weapons, her eyes flicking back and forth from the trees to the task at hand. She could feel Glenn's eyes on her the whole time, clearly not convinced that her attachment to the Dixons was as low key as she'd described.

She wasn't lying though. Both men were surly and abrasive. A couple of conversations weren't enough to say they were friends, but the fact that she'd treated them no different to any of the other campers had certainly set her on their good side.

She knew they weren't 'good' guys but then again they never pretended to be. Out of every camper in their little group, the Dixon brothers were least likely to break under the crazy, which made them safer than any one else in her opinion. They didn't make her skin crawl when they looked at her, which was more than she could say for Ed and Shane.

Rosie was the only woman in the camp who hadn't come with a man or as part of a larger group. Nearly all the other women seemed happy to lean on the men they'd arrived with, the ones they already had family with. Andrea looked at her like some poor lost kid while Lori eyed her up like some kind of liability. They tried to get her to help with the 'womanly' tasks they'd all been set, but she'd never been very good at home making or all the things that came with it. And she didn't think it would comfort anyone to know what she was very good at.

"Rosie, if you're not hanging out with the Dixons, why can't you take your eyes off the woods?" Glenn asked.

Rosie sighed and shook her head, something she found herself doing a lot nowadays. How was she possibly going to explain to Glenn that it wasn't Daryl she was concerned about? That she hunted monsters that had been hiding well enough before all this kicked off? Monsters whose food supply had just become extremely limited?

"He said he saw a chupacabra in the woods," she blurted, nothing else coming to mind and that being the closest thing to the truth.

Glenn scoffed. "And you believe him?"

She tried not to take it personally, but as always, she couldn't help it. She'd spent her whole life knowing things that no one wanted to believe.

"Glenn, nearly a week ago, the dead started eating people. It doesn't exactly seem all that far fetched anymore," she huffed.

Glenn had the good grace to look a little chastised, again. He gave her a sheepish shrug and a smile. "I suppose not. But, just because Daryl saw a chupacabra in the woods a few years ago, doesn't mean it's still there now. Or that he actually saw one."

Rosie groaned. "Why is it, when the world ends, the dead start walking, and the impossible happens, I still get to be the crazy bitch that needs to be locked in a psych ward?" she muttered, mostly to herself but loud enough for Glenn to catch every word. He just looked at her perplexed.

"'Cause people wanna hold on to normal, 'specially now there ain't no such thing no more," Daryl drawled, creeping out of the trees a few feet from them.

Rosie jumped slightly and then scowled at him, swiping at his legs as he walked past. "Don't do that!"

"Do what?" he said, although his lips were twitching so Rosie knew he'd absolutely done it on purpose.

"Sneak around like that!" she huffed.

"Yeah, next time I'll go stompin' round so you can hear me," he said, his sarcasm not going unnoticed. "Maybe if I ask the squirrels nicely they might stand still and jus' let me shoot 'em."

Rosie slapped his legs again, still scowling up at him. "You can sneak in, I just don't see why you have to sneak out."

Daryl shrugged. "Entertainment. Watchin' ya jump feet is pro'ly the most I'll get fer a while." He looked down at her with a defiant smirk.

Rosie hissed and rolled her eyes, folding her arms irritably. "You know, that's the last time I worry about you. Don't come crying to me if something gets you in there."

"Like what?" he said.

Rosie looked up at him only to feel well and truly taken aback. Sure, he was challenging her, but his eyes were hard not teasing. Like he knew she was being serious, and not just about the chupacabra. He didn't see crazy when he looked at her, he saw something else.

"Like a lot of things," Rosie mumbled, unable to look away from him.

"You don't seriously think there's really anything in those woods?" Glenn asked, breaking Rosie's stare and forcing her eyes back to him. "At least, besides geeks and the usual wildlife."

"Depends on what ya class as usual," Daryl muttered.

"D'you see something in there?" Rosie asked, refusing to sound as frantic as she felt.

"Nah, nothin' much," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Few strange claw marks on a couple trees-"

"Strange how?" Rosie asked, feeling her pulse start to climb erratically.

"Long, deep an' in the same shape as a hand..."

Rosie saw out the corner of her eye, Glenn looking from her to Daryl and back again. "It doesn't mean anything though, right?" he asked, panic climbing in his voice the longer Rosie stared at Daryl.

"Did you really see it or are you testing me?" she said.

Daryl remained motionless, looking down at her, his face unmoving. "If I really saw it, would ya let me go in the woods alone again?"

Rosie growled. "No. But then, you already knew that."

"So what is it? If I saw them claw marks, what would it be from?" he asked.

Rosie cleared her throat and swallowed. "Best guess? A wendigo, although we're nowhere near where they usually hail from."

"A wendigo?" Glenn said, still looking from Daryl to Rosie and back, over and over. "What's a wendigo?"

Rosie's shoulders slumped and she sighed. "Its something that used to be human. Turned to cannibalism when they got lost in the woods. Made them decidedly not human. They're usually over 6ft tall, more towards 7ft. They're wicked fast and damn near perfect hunters, especially at night. Silent. Deadly. And if they catch you, they don't kill you quick. They keep you alive so they can feed whenever they need to, rip you apart while they eat you piece by piece."

Glenn looked visibly shook.

"How'd ya kill 'em?" Daryl asked, unflinching eyes on hers.

"You gotta set them on fire. Burn them up," she said, gazing steadily at him. "Or shove a silver stake through their heart and then cut them up with a silver axe. But like I said, they're fast. Stupid fast."

Daryl nodded. "I'll keep my eyes peeled."

Rosie huffed. "That's not funny."

"Tis a lil bit," he said, his lips twitching again as his pinched his thumb and forefinger together. "I'll be careful."

Rosie wasn't happy with just being careful. "Don't go into the woods at night. Please. If there really is a wendigo in the woods, don't go out there at night."

"Anythin' else?"

"If you hear someone screaming or calling out, even if its anyone you know, and it's not in the direction of this camp...ignore it," she said. "They can mimic the human voice."

"Gotcha," Daryl nodded, "that it?"

"You find yourself hunted, draw these in the ground around you, like in a circle," Rosie said, making marks in the dirt with a small stick. "They're Anasazi symbols. They'll keep you safe if you stay inside the circle."

"What about us?" Glenn asked in a strangled sort of voice. "What about this camp?"

"It shouldn't venture out of the woods, but then it shouldn't even be in those woods in the first place, so..." Rosie groaned and shook her head. "I'm gonna go look like the complete fucking nutcase I am and start carving these damn things in the trees lining the forest. So it can't get out."

"You really think it might come for us?" Glenn said, wide and panicked eyes on her. "You're not just messing with me?"

Rosie scoffed. "Man, I wish I was messing with you. I'd give anything to be messing with you right now. But this world was full of things that went bump in the night before it all went to shit. We aren't the only things that are desperate."

"What else is out there?" Daryl asked, looking down at her.

"I'm not answering that," she huffed.   
"Why?" Glenn frowned at her. "Why wouldn't you tell us all? Why wouldn't you want us to know?"

"Like I said, world goes crazy and I still get to be the kind of crazy that should be locked up. No one is gonna believe me. Hell, I'm amazed the two of you did," Rosie said, flinging an arm out irritably. "The only reason anyone believes the dead are walking is because they've seen it with their own fucking eyes!"

"Anythin' else in those woods I'm likely to get got by?" Daryl asked, glaring at her. "I wanna know what I might be up against and unless ya want me dead, yer gonna tell me."

Rosie laughed humourlessly. "There are so many things that could be out there it would blow your mind."

"How'd you know about all this stuff?" Glenn asked, obliviously cutting Daryl off before he could argue.

Rosie shrugged one shoulder, her eyes hitting the floor. "Me and my brothers, we hunt them. The bad ones at least. The ones that have a body count."

"There are good monsters?" Glenn stared at her, totally unconvinced.

"More like, there are monsters that aren't bad," Rosie said. "Vamps that won't drink human blood, and werewolves that won't eat human hearts-"

"Vampires and werewolves exist?" Glenn laughed, the sound somewhat hollow and desperate.

Rosie nodded. "Yeah...and so are angels, demons, djinn, shapeshifters, ghosts, leviathan, shtritega, gods with a little g and God with a big G, the four horsemen of the apocalypse, prophets, tricksters, skinwalkers, wraith, ghouls, tulpa...chances are if you've heard a horror story about it, it's real."

"Tha' why ya were askin' Merle abou' horror stories," Daryl said, nodding like he got it now.

"Yeah," she said. "Usually, I can use the internet to find out that sort of stuff. But it's not exactly looking like it'll start up again soon."

Daryl grunted and wondered off, leaving Rosie feeling incredibly uneasy.

"We need to tell the others what you know," Glenn said, starting to get to his feet.

"No, we don't," Rosie said. "They'll panic. More than they already have. It won't do them any good to know. I'll tell them shit if they need to know shit."

"Well, how're you gonna explain the weird symbols you're about to carve into the tree line?" Glenn hissed.

"My grandma used to teach them to me, they made her feel safe and she said they'd protect me like they protected her," Rose rolled the lie right off her tongue, "I never put much stock in it but what with everything that's happened, I don't know...I guess I just felt like it would help make me feel safe. The way she used to."

Glenn grimaced at her. "None of that was true, was it?"

"Not a word," Rosie said, standing up and brushing herself off before collecting her guns and her knives.

"Its scares me how easy that lie came to you," he said, almost squinting at her, trying to figure her out.

"You get good at making shit up on the spot when the truth is likely to get you locked up for life," Rosie said.

"You don't know that they won't believe you," Glenn argued softly.

"Yeah, I do. Its exactly like Daryl said...they want to hang on to normal too much. They've already had to handle one threat to that, they won't handle a hundred." Rosie shrugged and gave him a small smile. "I don't blame them. It's not their fault their existence is so narrow."

Glenn huffed and glared at her. "My existence is - _was_ \- not narrow."

" _You_ aren't narrow though Glenn," Rosie said. "You seriously think Shane, our fearless leader, is going to take me seriously if I tell him monsters are real and there's a good chance they're hiding out in the woods? Hell, Lori is likely to jump down my throat and bark at me for scaring the kids?!"

Glenn groaned and let his head hang forwards. "Are you always this right about everything."

Rosie chuckled, her irritation giving way to amusement once she realised Glenn understood. "Yeah, mostly."

He sighed. "Just...don't keep that kind of shit from me, okay?"

"Okay," she said, nodding. "Now I'm gonna go carve me some 'sentimental symbols' on the trees."

Glenn nodded back and watched her go. 

  
Rosie dumped her stuff back in her car, now clean and in perfect working order. She grabbed one of the knives she'd sharpened and went on a fairly long and winding walk up and around, following the tree line and making sure the distance she went was far enough that the wendigo, if there was one, wouldn't try doubling back outside of the cover of the trees just to get to them. She started twisting her knife into the wood of the tree when Daryl stepped out from the other side of it.

Rosie shot into the air, but brought the knife lunging down towards him, purely out of instinct. Daryl caught her hand and stopped her before she could actually kill him.

"Jesus girl, wha's wrong with you?" he huffed.

Rosie practically screamed, slapping his chest a few times in frustration. "I told you to stop doing that!"

"I was jus' comin' ta help!" he cried, trying to shield himself with his arms.

Rosie growled at him when she realised he was laughing. "It's not funny! I could have killed you!"

Daryl laughed harder at that.

She squealed irritably and then glared at him. "Can you even remember what it is you're supposed to be drawing?"

Daryl didn't answer, he just nodded and then unsheethed a knife he had strapped to his belt before pressing it up against a tree and carving a perfect rendition of one of the symbols she'd shown him not that long ago.

Rosie growled, stalking along to another tree and carving another symbol, saying nothing.

"Come on, ya can't be that mad," he said, following her and starting on another tree a few feet past the one she was at. "It was pretty funny."

"It wasn't funny!" she snapped.

"Was if ya weren't you," he said, sniggering to himself.

"How'd you manage to get away from camp again so soon?" she asked, huffing at him.

"They don't own me," he said with a frown. "I do what I want."

"You don't say," she grumbled. After a pause she glanced up at him. "You realise they're all gonna have a fucking field day when they realise we've been gone together."

"Wha' the hell they think we're gonna've been up to?" He looked at her with another deep frown and that's when Rosie started laughing.

"Jeez Daryl, I don't know, what could two people be up to in the woods, for hours, at the end of the world?" She completed her sarcastic reply with one raised eyebrow, half a smirk and a hip pop.

Daryl glared at her, the tips of his ears pink. "Ain't like that."

"I know that," she said, rolling her eyes. "You know that. Doesn't mean anyone else is gonna believe us."

"Everyone else can get fucked then," he said, moving on down and starting on the next tree.

Rosie snickered some more. "That's exactly what they're going to think we've been doing."

"Shut up," he huffed. "I'm over ten years older'n you, and I'm not inta jail bait."

Rosie rolled her eyes again. "I'm not jail bait, I told you that. And I don't know what everyone's obsession is with the rotation of the fucking earth around the goddamn sun!"

"So what? Ya sayin' ya wanna get down an' dirty with yours truly?" he scoffed. "Ya really wanna go a turn jus' 'cause everyone thinks we might be?"

Rosie folded her arms and glared at him. "Might as well, huh? I mean, what's the point of getting blamed for something you haven't done, right? Might as well do it." She took a step towards him and watched as he stilled.

"Watch it Annie, 'cause your gonna do something you regret in a minute," he said.

"You think I'm gonna regret you Daryl?" Rosie laughed. "Honestly, I'm hauling around a goddamn ton of fucking regret. I doubt it'll even register if I do." She took a deep breath in, wandering what the hell had come over her. She was fully aware that if Daryl wasn't the man he was, she'd most likely be getting fucked up against a tree right now and she wouldn't be saying no. At least not until she was done.

"Wha's the matter? Ya hate bein' looked at like a kid? Ya wanna roll 'round wi' me jus' ta prove yer a grown up?" He snapped, stabbing the tree in front of him with a lot more ferocity than was needed.

"I _am_ a grown up!" Rosie roared, stomping towards him, breathing hard. "I've been through shit you wouldn't believe-"

"'Cept I do believe ya," he growled, turning away from the carving to face her. "Why else would I be out here bustin' my ass with this shit?"

Rosie glared at him. Yeah, he did believe her. About the monsters. The not-human kind. What was it Dean used to say? Something about a river of crap that would send most people howling to the nut house? It hadn't ever been a river for her, it was fucking tsunami.

"Annie-"

"Don't call me Annie," she said, her voice faltering no matter how hard she tried to stop it.

Daryl took a few steps towards her, stopping just before he got to her, the toes of his boots maybe a half inch away from hers. " _Annie_ , I don' care what any of 'em think we been doin' out here. Let 'em talk. Ain't like they got much else to do now, anyway."

Rosie scoffed, slowly bringing her eyes up to meet his.

"But don' play chicken wi' me girl, 'cause you'll lose. I promise ya that," he said, his eyes narrowing as he held her gaze.

Rosie was completely caught off guard by how blue his eyes were, and how serious they looked. She swallowed thickly at the heated way they refused to let hers go. Would she regret it? Damn straight. But not the way he thought she probably would. Hunters don't do stupid shit like get attached to people, at least not out loud.

"We good?" he muttered, stepping back and finally letting her go.

"We're good," Rosie murmured. She gripped the knife in her hand hard, realising it was slick with sweat. Turning back to the tree she made a mental note; never play with Daryl Dixon, unless you're willing to get burnt. 


	2. Take A Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is from Daryl's point of view. Each chapter will switch from Daryl to Rosie.

Daryl glared at the necklace like he could force it to combust if he put enough effort into it. _Rosanna_ had just dropped the damn thing in his hands and told him to 'put it on, it's protection from demons'. He groaned internally, slipping it on over his head and hiding it under his vest top. God forbid Merle ever saw it. He could only imagine the shit he'd get for wearing a piece of jewelry 'cause a girl asked him to. 

He watched her stalk over to Glenn and push one onto him as well. Glenn looked mildly less comfortable about the whole thing than Daryl did, although Daryl was sure his discomfort came from the knowledge that demons were real, not that he had to wear a pendant on a piece of string.

Daryl didn't care that demons were real. It was no surprise to him. Hell, he felt like he'd met a few. He didn't care that everything had gone to shit or that the world was burning. If it had been up to him, he'd have burnt the fucker a long time ago. Not sure he would have added the whole dead-people-walking thing though. That was new. It had, however, taken him surprisingly less time to wrap his brain around it than most.

He'd grabbed Merle from his favourite dive bar, proved he wasn't talking bullshit (by shoving Merle's face close enough to a geek to almost get bit) and then got the hell out of dodge. The woods that backed their run-down little trailer were big enough and he knew the entrance up by the quarry was easy enough to get to from where they were. Still took them fucking forever stuck in traffic though. He almost gave up.

Then, to make matters even fucking peachier, he realised they weren't gonna be alone up here in the woods. He was gonna have to babysit Merle and make sure he didn't offend anyone enough to get them cast out. The hunting was part of that. At least if he made himself and his brother useful, they'd be less likely to send them packing.

Daryl had dealt with people looking down their noses at him since he knew what a nose was. He was a Dixon and Dixon's were nothing special and they were nothing good. He'd grown up watching his dad be the best asshole he could be, and then watched Merle do the best fucking impression of the old man that he could. Problem was, when reality came crashing down around all these people, they couldn't let go of old habits and harsh judgements. Merle was no different.

Daryl figured that was gonna be his life for a while; try and shut Merle up without making him feel like he wasn't in charge anymore. He'd begrudgingly agreed to Merle's stupid plan to rob the camp blind and take off, with no real intentions of seeing it through. Anything to shut him up and get him to play nice for a while.

Daryl wasn't surprised no one wanted much to do with them. No one ever had. He was perfectly happy with that. The further away everyone else stayed, the less he'd have to supervise Merle. So it was a fucking shock, to say the least, when he wondered out of the goddamn woods to find _Rosanna_ sat in the truck with his big brother, watching him whittle bolts for the damn crossbow.

 _Rosanna._ The girl who looked like the definition of young, sweet and innocent. The complete opposite to Merle. Since he'd spotted her sat nonchalantly in the back of his truck, chatting easily to his asshole big brother, the girl had been nothing but a pain in his ass. And she most certainly wasn't sweet and innocent neither.

Daryl looked up from where he was sat, on the back of his truck. People were milling about all over the place and he'd been pleaded with not to go in the woods at night, which it was soon to be. He'd finished carving weird symbols in the trees an hour or so ago, but it hadn't left him long enough to go back in on a hunt. At least not long enough for him to get out before dark. He'd ignored the strange looks he'd gotten off the rest of the camp for helping Rosie. He very pointedly ignored Merle's shit-eating grin. He'd deal with whatever filth was going through his brother's head later.

God, the girl was getting to him. She was totally under his skin and he'd had a grand total of three conversations with her. Three. There was just something about her. Something that wasn't usual. Daryl didn't meet girls like her every day. Hell, he was pretty sure he'd never in his life met a girl like her. It was like a part of his brain had flipped a switch; he wanted to figure her out, for no other reason than wanting to figure her out.  
And that was exactly the problem. She was not the kind of girl you just figured out. Which was probably half the reason why he wanted to, just for wanting to. It was like he was in some sick loop all of his own making.

A few of the happy campers gathered some wood together and started the campfire for the evening. He wasn't really in the mood to socialise but he knew if he slunk back to his tent he'd just have to deal with Merle making lewd comments at him all night. Dixons didn't do shit for free, and as far as Merle was concerned, Rosie owed Daryl and Daryl was only helping her out 'cause he wanted something from her. What Daryl wanted was to not get dragged off by a wendigo in the middle of the night, but he knew if he told Merle that, he'd take the piss out of him for believing in horror stories. So socialising seemed the lesser of two evils.

As dusk fell, he wondered over and sat his ass down on a piece of log as far away from everyone else as he could. His semi-solitude didn't last long though when Glenn came and took a twitchy seat to his left. Daryl tried to ignore him but it was hard to do when the guy jumped feet any time he heard a noise. Literally, _any_ time. _Any_ noise.

"Dude, you gotta calm the fuck down," Daryl muttered under his breath, shooting him a sideways glance.

"How the fuck am I supposed to calm down when we could get eaten while we sleep!" Glenn whisper-hissed, staring incredulously at Daryl.

"Same way ya have every other fuckin' night we been here," Daryl huffed.

Glenn let out an irritated breath. "This is different."

"It ain't different," Daryl said, shaking his head. "There's always been monsters out there. S'just now ya know some of 'em ain't human."

"If that's supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't," Glenn muttered.

"It weren't s'pposed ta make ya feel nothin'," Daryl said, an incredulous look on his face. "I ain't ya Momma."

Glenn simply glared at him, jumping feet when Rosie came and sat down next to him.

"What's the matter with you?" Rosie asked, frowning at him.

"What - what's the _matter with me_?" Glenn cried, making sure to keep his voice down but unable to hide his hysteria. "You just told me there's a man-eating monster in the woods, that horror-movie creatures are real and I'm wearing a fucking necklace to prevent a demonic fucking possession! What do you think is the _matter with me_?"

"Dude, you need to calm down," Rosie said, setting a comforting arm on his shoulder.

Glenn gaped at her. "I can't calm down."

Rosie rolled her eyes. "Glenn, monsters have always existed, now you just know about it."

"Why can't _they_ know about it?" he argued, gesturing surreptitiously to the rest of the gathering camp.

"'Cause they'll want proof and there ain't none," Daryl said.

"What about the claw marks in the woods?" Glenn said.

Daryl shrugged. "They'll say it was a bear."

"But you know it's not?" He sounded almost hopeful. Like maybe Daryl could have been mistaken.

"Yeah. I know it's not." Daryl shook his head. "I spent most of my life in them woods. I know what's normal and what ain't."

Glenn grimaced and groaned quietly to himself.

Rosie frowned at Daryl over the top of Glenn's head. "Is it really that hard to get your head around?"

Daryl shrugged again. "Yer askin' the wrong person. His world weren't already on fire when this shit started."

Rosie scoffed and nodded.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Glenn asked, practically sulking.

"Means you were normal," Rosie said. "Well," she added with a smirk, "as normal as normal was, back then."

Glenn just looked at her, both unconvinced and exasperated.

"You broke him, you fix him," Daryl said, trying not to find the whole thing entirely too funny. 

"I didn't break him!" Rosie huffed, glaring irritably at him.

Truth of it was, Daryl's mind had not been blown by the apocalypse and it hadn't been blown by the knowledge that there were supernatural creatures in this world that would kill him given half the chance. He wasn't so self-absorbed that he couldn't understand why it blew the minds of other people. But he also wasn't selfless enough to coach them through it, or put all that much effort into hiding his amusement.

"Well, he seemed fuckin' fine 'fore ya told him there was somethin' gonna come crawlin' out the woods ta eat him," Daryl sniggered.

Rosie leaned around Glenn to smack his shoulder lightly. "You're not helping," she hissed. "And that was actually your fault. You asked what was out there!"

Daryl shrugged. "You answered." He wasn't taking the blame for scaring the crap outta the kid. She was the one who opened her mouth instead of brushing him off. She didn't have to answer honestly. He was kinda surprised she did. He got the impression that she skirted around the truth as much as possible in an attempt not end up in a soft padded cell.

"Yeah, okay, next time I'll just lie and let you wonder off into the woods to get carried off by a creature who'll string you up, peel your skin off and eat you as slowly as it can," she muttered.

Daryl's eyebrows shot up as he looked at her.

"What?" Rosie said, frowning at him.

"It peels your skin off?" Glenn asked, his voice a very high, panicked whisper.

"Shit," Rosie growled, mostly to herself.

"And you said _I_ wasn't helpin'," Daryl snorted.

Rosie glared at him before setting her eyes back on Glenn. "I was being over dramatic. For effect."

Glenn did not look like he believed her, and Daryl couldn't say he blamed him.

"Yer a pretty shit liar," he mumbled.

"Oh really? 'Cause I did just fine before you started helping," she said through gritted teeth.

"Ain't my fault ya can't lie 'round me," Daryl said, frowning at her again. "Beats me why you'd admit it though..."

Rosie opened her mouth to retaliate and then shut it again, repeating the action a few times before growling in frustration. 

Daryl wanted to stare at her a long while, try and work out what was going on in her head. Instead, he forced his eyes back on the fire and on ignoring as many people as he could. What was it about this girl that got him asking questions he didn't want to know the answers to? He'd never in his life cared about the effect he had on a woman. He knew how to fuck one well enough that he'd had no complaints, but it never crossed his mind to think about what was going on in theirs.

He shot Rosie a sideways glance, trying to watch her without watching her. He couldn't work out how she'd got inside his head. She hadn't even done anything to get there, not really. Not unless you counted the fact that she treated him and Merle like everyone else at camp. That was a bit new, and different. It occured to him then that he hadn't met many decent people.

On top of that, there was the whole knowing-monsters-exist thing and the extensive knowledge she appeared to have on them. What kind of shit had she had to go through to know so much about the supernatural? Accompanied by her no nonsense attitude about the whole thing, and he was damn near finding her impossible.

 _'Don' play chicken with me girl, 'cause you'll lose. I can promise ya that.'_ Daryl shook his head thinking about that. He didn't know what had come over him, only that she got so far under his skin that he didn't know what to do with himself. And he always knew what to do with himself. He might have a fuck off attitude but he wasn't ever out of control, even when he was raging. Everything he did was on purpose. So he knew, as soon as those words came out his mouth, that he wasn't joking. He hadn't said it just to shut her up. He'd said it 'cause he meant it.

He was relieved she'd listened, too. The last thing he wanted was to end up screwing himself over by screwing her. Not only would Merle have a fucking field day with that, he got the sense that whatever tentative 'friendship' had formed so far, would be completely lost. The rest of their relationship would be about what they could get from each other in the crudest of senses and he wasn't interested in some feral fucking. He was barely interested in fucking before the world ended. He only did it to stop Merle ragging on him that he needed to get some. A good percentage of Merle's problems were both caused and solved by his ability to get his dick wet, which he clearly felt should be the case for everybody.

But Rosie was young and she was good. Not in the sweet and innocent sense, just in the too-good-for-a-Dixon sense. He could see it, hell everyone at camp could see it. It was why Shane kept darting his eyes over at them, watching and waiting for Daryl to fuck up. It was the end of the world, after all. Anything could happen, and pretty little things like Rosie could really get taken advantage of if they weren't careful. To everyone else, Daryl and his brother looked exactly like the kind of assholes that would take advantage. Which was why Daryl refused to be that asshole. Merle was a whole other story, but he seemed to be respecting the boundaries Rosie had placed and he liked the girl too, so he wasn't gonna want to upset her any time soon.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched Rosie stand up and walk off without saying a word. He wasn't sure if he was pissed about that or kind of happy that she hadn't started talking again. He hated talking. It usually led to him saying some shit he wished he hadn't, 'cause every word someone spoke said something about themselves. Something about what was going on in their head. And Daryl didn't want anyone in his head, including the odd crazy girl who seemed to have settled herself in there quite nicely and completely without his permission.

"Do you think it'll come out of the woods?" Glenn whispered, eyes darting up to Daryl's face.

"Nah," Daryl said, shaking his head. "We carved a lot o' symbols in the trees. An' Annie seems ta know what she's talkin' 'bout."

Glenn frowned gently at him. "Shane called her Annie. I thought she was gonna lay him out."

Daryl shrugged.

"Were you really just carving symbols in the trees earlier, or-"

"Or what?" Daryl snapped. "Wha' else d'ya think we was up to?"

Glenn shrugged and raised an eyebrow, a sheepish sort of grimace on his face. "I wasn't the only one thinking it."

"Nah, but yer the only one who knew we was tryin' ta stop somethin' real," Daryl snarled.

"So there's really nothing going on with you?" Glenn said. "I mean, she's pretty hot, it's not like anyone would blame you..."

Daryl looked at him, one eyebrow raised and the most incredulous look on his face. "Shane'ud cut my balls off. We'd get kicked outta the fuckin' camp. I got fourteen years on her."

Glenn smirked. "So it's not like you wouldn't..."

"Man, that girl is all kinds a crazy," Daryl said, shaking his head, a slight smirk on his own lips. "But, nah...I wouldn'. Don' know why but, I like her too much." He shot Glenn a subtle smile and shrugged. "Whatcha gonna do, right?"

Glenn chuckled and nodded. "Yeah...I guess. Maybe you can be friends first or something...?" he offered, shooting Daryl his own cheeky smile.

"Fuck off chinaman," Daryl huffed, nudging him in amusement.

"I'm Korean," Glenn said with a roll of his eyes.

"Whatever," Daryl chuckled.

"Still think you'd bang her if you could," Glenn muttered almost under his breath.

Daryl didn't know why he opened his mouth but he did. "I could, and I didn'."

Glenn looked at him in shock, opening and closing his mouth much like Rosie had earlier that evening. "You what?"

"You ever tell anyone that, an I'll drag ya into the woods while ya sleep so the monsters can get to ya," Daryl said, letting his eyes land back on Glenn.

Glenn swallowed and nodded.

Daryl laughed to himself at how convinced the kid looked, like he'd actually murder the poor guy just for repeating something he'd said. But if Merle ever found out he passed up the opportunity to pin any girl to a tree, he'd never hear the end of it. Maybe even more than if he actually started something up with the crazy one.

"What stopped you?" Glenn asked softly, pointedly not looking at Daryl's scowl.

Daryl shrugged. "It wouldn'ta been worth it. I riled her up, she riled me up, conversation took a turn..." He shook his head. "Woulda jus' been usin' each other on purpose. She's worth more than that."

"I'm starting to think you might be, too," Glenn huffed.

"Nah..." Daryl twitched, looking warily at Glenn. "I ain't nothin' like her. Don' start gettin' stupid ideas."

"You mean thinking you're not all that bad is a stupid idea?" Glenn said.

"I ain't all that good neither," Daryl growled.

"I know," Glenn said, almost smirking at him again. "I'm not stupid."

Daryl snorted. "Then ya need ta calm the fuck down 'bout those woods and anythin' you think might be in 'em. These people are freaked enough as it is."

"They deserve to know," Glenn muttered.

"And they will, eventually," Daryl said. "When there's proof an' Annie ain't gonna get slung out on her ass 'cause scared people are idiots."

"You really think we're ever going to get real proof," Glenn grumbled.

"Annie's right, we ain't the only things that're desperate," Daryl said. "Proof'll walk itself straight at us once it's hungry, no different from the dead."

Glenn squirmed at that and Daryl felt no remorse. He wasn't wrong and neither was the crazy girl who'd pointed it out in the first place. She was a hunter if ever there was one, same as him. Her prey was just a little different. He wasn't about to start babying this kid just because she hadn't had the foresight to think about whether he could handle the truth or not. 

............

A few days later and Daryl was getting ready to go on a hunt. Rosie had begged him to let her come along and he'd somewhat begrudgingly given in when Merle started talking loudly about how his reason for saying no was the fact he couldn't control himself around her. Which wouldn't have been a problem had Rosie herself not jumped on board with that and started taunting him until he relented. Now, he was just in a fucking bad mood and nowhere near in the right headspace for hunting.

Just as they were about to get going, her cell phone started going off in her pocket. Daryl glared at her.

"How the fuck does that thing still work? And what the hell ya doin' carryin' it inta the woods with ya?"

Rosie rolled her eyes at him and picked it up. "If you're calling to tell me you're dead I'm gonna kill you," she huffed into the phone.

Daryl watched as she seemed to twist and turn on the spot, listening to whoever was on the other end.

"No Dean, I'm not putting you on speaker," she growled. Another pause. "Because I actually made some fucking friends and they don't usually last long once I introduce them to you."

Daryl frowned at that. Dean. Who was Dean? He didn't sound like a boyfriend, she wasn't placating enough, and he didn't sound like much of a friend either to be honest.

"Boy, are you goin' into them woods fer some fun time with the lovely Rosanna here or what?" Merle hollered with a laugh as he lounged in the back of the truck some twenty feet away.

"Shut up Merle!" Daryl hollered back. "I _will_ shoot ya in the ass if don't stop runnin' ya mouth!"

"It's just Merle, Dean," Rosie muttered. "I'm fine Dean! No, you do not need to speak to everyone I'm with right now. God!"

Brother. Daryl's bet was on brother. That was definitely some sibling shit going on right there. He looked over at her with raised eyebrows, cocking his head towards the woods. Rosie shook her head and rolled her eyes, mouthing 'I'm coming' to him as she continued to pace up and down.

"Yeah, I know." She rolled her eyes again. "I'm good Dean. No, I am. I promise."

"Just put the damn cell on speaker, Annie," Daryl said, giving her a flat look. "Unless ya wanna hang up on him."

"You asked for it," she muttered, pulling the phone away from her ear and hitting the speaker button.

"Roe, who was that?" Dean barked, a definite pissed off tone to his voice. "Why's he calling you Annie?"

"Name's Daryl," Daryl grunted. "And she ain't been able to find a way ta stop me yet."

"Oh, so you're just an asshole then," the Dean guy growled.

"Dean!" Rosie cried.

Daryl just shrugged. "I don' know what ta tell ya man. She managed ta get everyone else ta stop jus' by lookin' at 'em. I figured she jus' likes me."

Rosie smacked his chest with the back of her hand. "That is not helping," she hissed.

"Roe, you got something going on with this guy? Are you really being that stupid?" Dean snapped.

"She ain't stupid," Daryl shot back, faster than Rosie could retaliate. "And what's it to you? Huh? Ain't like she's a kid-"

Rosie glared at him. "Daryl!"

"If you so much as look at my little sister that way-"

"Dean!" Another male voice floated through the phone and then became louder, an exasperated sigh filling the air. "Come on man! She's not fourteen anymore."

Daryl watched Rosie swallow thickly, seemingly trying to shake loose some kind of moment or memory. She fidgeted awkwardly, itching a few random places on her body, as though her skin wasn't comfortable anymore.

"Sorry Rosie," the new voice said. "You know how Dean gets."

Rosie cleared her throat and nodded. "Yeah...it's not like the guy on my end helped any," she said, scowling at Daryl as the unease left her and the twitching stopped.

Daryl merely shrugged.

"How you doing?" The voice said. "You holding up okay? Safe?"

Rosie scoffed. "As safe as I'm gonna get for now, how about you?"

There was a pause and Daryl saw Rosie hold her breath the longer it went on. "We're safe," it said. "We're safe."

"What aren't you telling me Sam?" Rosie asked.

Daryl watched as she went back to twitching but for entirely different reasons. She looked on edge. Like she could tell this Sam guy was holding something back. She obviously knew him well, but she wasn't as harsh with him as she was with Dean. Daryl realised he didn't really know anything about her at all. What blew him away was the overwhelming urge that he wanted to.

"We found a group, some stuff went down, we got everyone safe but...there's some people with family in DC," he said.

Rosie frowned. "DC's a long way to travel." She glared at the ground a little bit. "About as far as fucking Georgia," she grumbled.

Sam laughed softly. "Yeah..."

"You wanna take them to DC but Dean wants to come find me, right?" Rosie said, so sure of herself that Daryl could tell instantly that this connection she had with these two men was deeper than anything he'd ever felt for himself. Hell, him and Merle were close and the jackass was family, so he'd always stick with him but...it didn't resonate quite like this. Like he could feel the pull they each had to one another across a fucking phone call.

"Yeah..." Sam said.

"Then take them," Rosie answered. "If they need you Sam, take them."

"Rosie..." Dean's voiced sounded again and Daryl found himself stilling just so he could stay and listen. It was like he couldn't draw himself away, despite feeling like he was most definitely encroaching on a private family moment. That being said, Rosie wasn't exactly walking out of ear shot either. If anything she was closer to him than she had been when she first took the call.

"Dean, you know it's the right thing to do," she said softly, her eyes boring into the ground. "I'm good. I don't need you right now. If they need you Dean, you have to help them. You know that."

"It's not fair," Dean said, his voice sounding as though his teeth were clenched.

"It never has been," Rosie answered, her voice a wonderful mix of soft and hard all at the same time. Daryl couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Anything come out of those woods yet that shouldn't have?" he asked.

Rosie's eyes snapped to Daryl's and he found himself holding in a breath as she locked him in, a fierce warning in her gaze. "No," she said. "The woods are clean. Walkers are the only thing in them that shouldn't be."

"Daryl is it?" Dean's tired voice asked. "Is she lying to me?"

Rosie continued to stare at him, her cold hard eyes unwavering. If this was the glare she shot everyone who called her Annie, no wonder they stopped.

"Nah, she ain't lying," Daryl said. Her eyes suddenly filled with so much warmth and gratitude that he couldn't hold them. He looked down at the ground, chewing the side of his thumb and wishing he could be anywhere but there.

"Are you?"

Daryl scoffed and pushed a huff past his lips. "I got her man, okay?" He didn't dare look up at Rosie in case she started glaring at him again. "S'long as I'm alive, she ain't dyin'."

Dean scoffed back. "And how am I supposed to trust that? Trust you?"

"You trust me, don't you?" Rosie said, the sound of her voice making Daryl's eyes jump back up to hers.

"Yeah..."

"And I trust him," she said, still looking straight at him. Her eyes were so goddamn beautiful it took everything in him not to drown in them.

"How much?"

The corners of her mouth twitched as she continued to stare at him, a sweet little smirk playing out across her lips. "Take a chance, Dean," she said.

The line got real quiet for a second.

"What?" Dean croaked.

"I said, take a chance," Rosie repeated.

Daryl frowned gently at her, not sure what the hell was going on.

Dean let out a long, low breath. "Fuck's sake Roe, what the hell am I supposed to say to that?"

Rosie chuckled softly. "How about, I'll see you when I get back from DC?"

Dean groaned. "Sure, whatever. Don't die before I get to you."

Rosie snorted. "Wouldn't dream of it." Her smile trailed off a little and her eyes grew sad. "I love you Dean."

"Love you too Rosie," he said.

"Love you Rosie," Sam chimed in. "Stay safe."

"You too Sam," she sniffed, her lips starting to tremble.

"Daryl, I swear to God if she's not alive when I catch up to you..." Dean started.

"She will be," he said.

"Bye Dean, bye Sam..." Her breath seemed to falter a little.

"Bye..."

She waited a while after the click before hanging up on her end. Daryl watched her with wary eyes, trying to gauge whether she was going to fall apart or not. 

"Sorry about that," she mumbled. "Don't start thinking I'm your responsibility just 'cause my brother put you on the spot."

Daryl shook his head. "I wasn't." He paused for a moment before his mouth opened again. "Wasn't lyin' though. You ain't dyin' 'fore me."

Rosie rolled her eyes. "Fine. But you die _for_ me, and I'll bring you back from the dead just to make you dead again, understood?" She poked him in the chest with a finger, a hard, almost pleading look in her eye.

Daryl nodded. "Deal."

He watched her as she turned away and made for the edge of the woods without looking back. Something was different now she'd spoken to her brother. Like reality had finally settled in. Not the gruesome one where the dead walked and ate everything around them, but the one where it was getting more and more probable that you were never gonna see the people you loved, ever again. She was looking at him different. Like she needed a lifeline, a person to hold onto in case she never caught up to her family. And for some bizarre reason, it looked like she'd chosen him.

Daryl followed her into the woods, ignoring Merle's little whistle as he watched them go. Fuck Merle. Sure, Daryl and Rosie had a moment out by the woods. Something could have happened that day. But now? Now, she just needed a friend and if anything, being a friend sat far more comfortably with him than being a fuck. So he'd be a friend.

"You bring people back from the dead often?" he asked as they manoeuvred their way through the trees, footsteps light and purposeful.

Rosie frowned at him.

"Ya said you'd bring me back from the dead just to make me dead again," he explained. "Didn' sound like it'd take a lot o' effort."

Rosie scoffed. "Nah, it wouldn't. My brothers have died more times than I can count and they're still walking the fucking earth with all their faculties in tact."

Daryl stilled at that. "So what? You jus' really good at CPR or somethin'?"

"Or something," she said, looking over her shoulder to give him a funny little smirk.

"My Momma always taught me never ta mess wi' voodoo shit," he muttered, shaking his head.

"It's not voodoo," she huffed. "To be honest, it was mostly sheer dumb luck with a little bit of ass fuckery thrown in."

Daryl raised one eyebrow at her and shook his head, starting to move again. "Damn girl, y'all kindsa crazy."

Rosie smiled. "Ain't that the truth." After a few more paces, she started humming to herself, a few words sung out with it. " _Take a chance when you're honest, take a chance when you lie..."_

Daryl frowned at the words, listening carefully as a few more escaped her lips.

" _Take a chance when you trust somebody, when you look 'em in the eye..."_

He watched her as she lost herself in the tune, her eyes darting across the forest floor as she worked out which way to turn and where to tread. He was kind of impressed. She was nowhere near as good as him at tracking or treading, but she sure as hell wasn't an amateur.

_"Take chance on me, I'm exactly what you see honey, take a chance on me..."_

"That wha' you was talkin' 'bout when ya told ya brother ta take a chance?" Daryl asked.

Rosie looked up at him, her eyes wide as she realised she'd been singing out loud. Her cheeks were turning noticeably red too.

"S'okay," Daryl said with a one armed shrug. "Ya voice ain't that bad, an yer feet are too loud for ya singin' ta have scared anythin' anyway." He smirked at her and her rabbit-in-headlights expression seemed to disappear only to be replaced by mild agitation and a small puff of air.

She shot him a glare and silently started picking her way through the woods again.

"So is it?" Daryl persisted. "That song mean somethin' ta the two o' ya?"

Rosie stopped and turned to face him. "Yeah." She took a deep breath and shrugged. "Bob Seger, Take a Chance. We used to sing to it all the time when we were on the road."

"I never pegged ya for rock an' roll," Daryl grunted. She seemed more than put out at sharing what she had, something he was kind of confused about since she'd shared so much already. He figured it would have been harder sharing the shit about all the monsters, not about a song her and her brother liked to sing together.

"Dean loves the stuff," she said, turning back around and moving further into the woods again.

"Sounds like you do too," he said.

Rosie just shrugged again and for the first time since they'd spoken, he realised he'd encountered the first of her walls. He knew they had to be in there somewhere. Everyone had walls. Some were like little picket fences that you could hop over or see through. His were about 7ft high and made of wrought iron. So he wasn't surprised that she had walls, it just surprised him that this was what she'd chosen to put them up around.

"Merle used ta listen ta Kiss," Daryl said, almost like he was trying to offer up something similar of himself. He didn't think he was close though. There was something behind that wall of hers that was about more than music and a song that could make her brother do whatever she asked. "He liked the sexual innuendos." He was rewarded with a snort and the flash of a smile.

"Sounds like Merle," Rosie said. "And I've only known him a week and a half."

Daryl scoffed. "It don' take long to know Merle."

Rosie laughed softly and sighed. "I know your brother's an asshole. I know he's got some twisted up, backward kinda views but...I can't help but like him." She grimaced almost apologetically and Daryl laughed.

"I think ya the only one," he said, shaking his head.

"Maybe," she said, slowing her pace as she studied the ground. "I can't exactly blame the rest of them for not liking him."

"He don' help himself, tha's for sure," Daryl grumbled, pointing her in the right direction.

"Is there a reason why he has to wind everyone up? I swear, sometimes it honestly feels like he watches people just to see what makes them tick and then purposefully exploits that just to make trouble," Rosie said.

Daryl raised an eyebrow and shot her a flat look. "Tha's exactly what he does."

Rosie scrunched her nose up. "Why? He's not that terrible to be around when he cuts the bullshit out."

Daryl shifted uncomfortably. Now she'd hit one of his walls. His 7ft high wrought iron walls. There was no way in hell he was gonna be able to say enough words in the right order to convey why Merle felt the need to push every fucker he ever met as far away as he could get them. So Daryl just shrugged. Rosie simply stared at him a while.

"Sam and Dean aren't my real brothers," she said finally, making his head snap up and his eyes find hers. "At least, not in the biological sense. They found me, strung up in a vamp nest when I was fourteen. Saved my ass, but...I had no place else to go so..." She shrugged, this one far less hostile and unyielding. "I had a hard time trusting people. Shit happened, even before. Dean, he sort of quoted that song word for word one of the first nights I spent with them." She chuckled and shook her head, her eyes starting to glisten. She took a breath and set them back on his. _"You take a chance on an airplane, you take a chance when you cross the street,"_ she sang softly. _"Take a chance when you love somebody, when you're standin' near their heat."_

Daryl cleared his throat as he watched her, feeling like this was the biggest part of herself she'd trusted with anyone, before or after this apocalypse hit.

" _Take a chance when you're honest, take a chance when you tell a lie, you take a chance when you trust somebody, when you look 'em in the eye..._ " She shrugged just one shoulder, fighting the smile on her lips that the song itself obviously pulled out of her. " _Take a chance on me, take a chance on me, I'm exactly what you see, honey, take a chance on me_."

Rosie stopped singing, looking at her fingers as she fiddled with them, shrugging the one shoulder again. Daryl wasn't sure he'd ever seen her look so vulnerable. "No matter what I did, I was taking a chance," she said, looking up at him. "So, I took a chance on Dean. It kinda worked out. Became our anthem."

Daryl nodded, gritting his teeth. Now it would seem that it was his turn to share. Shit. One breath, then two. He shifted foot to foot, put his thumb in his mouth out of habit. Rosie turned around and walked away, her expression torn between pissed off and downright hurt.

"It's self-preservation," Daryl growled, unable to make the words sound like he wanted to give them up. "He pushes everyone away first so he don' get hurt by 'em."

Rosie stilled, looked over her shoulder at him, her brow furrowed. "Why would he think everyone was out to hurt him first?"

Daryl shrugged again. "Shit happened. He didn' meet no one ta sing him a song."

Rosie turned on the spot to face him. Her eyes seemed to dart over his face, studying him. "That implies shit happened to you, too."

He tried not to flinch but it was damn near impossible. She was the first person he ever met that made words come out of his mouth that he didn't want to, that he hadn't thought twice about, but that he still fucking meant.

"Shit happens to all o' us," he grunted.

"Yeah, but not everyone has to shut the world out to survive it," she muttered back.

Daryl scowled at her. "What the hell does it matter? Huh? Two weeks ago, shit happened to everyone. We're all shuttin' the world out ta survive this one."

Rosie nodded.

"You wanna share your shit? Huh? Wanna tell me what happened 'fore ya brothers picked ya up and made it all go away?" he huffed.

Rosie glared back at him, folding her arms. "It didn't just 'go away' Daryl. It never does." Her voice shook but she didn't. She stood, staring at him.

Daryl let out an irritated little breath and shook his head. "I know."

She let her arms fall and sighed. "But you're right...I don't wanna talk about it. I don't know why I was pushing you to."

Daryl scoffed. "'Cause everyone else's shit is easier'n yer own."

Rosie groaned in agreement, tipping her head back to look at the sky. "I suppose so."

"I know so," he said, watching her closely as she caught her breath. He saw her pain mirrored in his own, knew that the shit she'd been through wasn't far from the shit he had. Takes one to know one and all that.

Barely a beat or two later, she'd regained her easy attitude and had turned back to the woods, scouting the trail of the rabbit they'd picked up. Daryl followed behind her, watching her every move. The way she walked, the places she put her feet, the weight she shifted through them. It was easier than thinking about any of the stuff they'd said to each other. Easier than acknowledging that they were starting to mean something to each other. Even Daryl knew that getting attached to someone at the end of the world, in any capacity, was a bad idea. Only thing that was guaranteed was a whole lot of pain and suffering. 


	3. Hole in My Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl got stuck in the woods overnight, and the scavenging group came back minus Merle. Rosie was not looking forward to the fall out from all sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI...the timeline follows TWD only. There are mentions of SPN-related events but they don't really fit in chronological order, especially when you work out that Rosie has known Sam and Dean for 8 years but refers to stuff that happened in earlier seasons. I'm really sorry if stuff like that bothers you, but for the benefit of my sanity and the ease of the story, I'm kind of pretending that the entire SPN timeline has already happened and that it also happened in double time! (Except season 15 because I haven't seen it yet, it sucks to be British 😫😂).

Four weeks later...

Rosie took a deep breath, her gaze flicking towards the Dixons' tent and away again just as quickly. She fidgeted where she sat, not really sure what to do with herself. She'd been on edge since Glenn arrived back at camp with a stranger in tow and missing Merle Dixon. She was the only one who seemed upset that he'd been left handcuffed to a roof in the middle of a city filled with the dead. Well, other than T-dog who was a goddamn saint. 

She didn't blame them. Any of them. Merle was not the easiest person to exist with, and when they all explained what had happened, she could understand how he'd got himself tied up and left for dead. Still, it was the last thing she'd have wished on anyone, and while Merle was a total dick to literally everyone at camp, including Daryl, he wasn't a total dick to her.

She could have coped with an absent Merle if Daryl had wondered back out of the woods before dark. But no, the sun had set, the campfires were alight and everyone was sat around it like the Dixon boys were expendable. She took another breath, wiping her hands down her face and trying not to lose it.

Shane sat back down after almost having it out with Ed. Asshole still gave her the creeps any time she felt his eyes on her. Typical asshole too, thought the rules didn't apply to him. Took a bigger asshole to get him to back down, or an honourable man pushed to his limits. Rosie wasn't sure what Shane was, but she was wavering more towards the former. She bristled slightly with him sat next to her, like he was just too close despite there being a respectable distance between them.

"Have you given any thought to _Daryl_ Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind," Dale said, looking over at Shane.

"I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me," T-dog replied. If Rosie had ever seen the face of a guilty man who probably shouldn't have been all that guilty, it was the face T-dog had on right now.

"I cuffed him. That makes it mine." Rick's eyes darted around at everyone.

It hadn't taken Rosie long to get a feel for Rick. Honest man. Decent father. Fucking lucky son of a bitch. If she believed angels were angels she'd have said he had one looking out for him.

"Guys, it's not a competition," Glenn muttered.

He'd spoken to Rosie when they all got back. She knew he wasn't that cut up about what happened with Merle, but he was upset about it for Daryl. The three of them were the only ones privy to all the other threats that were out there, and it meant they'd had a quiet conversation or two just between themselves. Glenn knew Daryl wasn't as caustic as he made out to be, but he also wasn't stupid enough to point that out to anyone. The guy had a heart, but he hated it when anyone else realised that.

"I don't mean to bring race into this," Shane spoke up from beside her, almost looking sorry he was saying it, but the sincerity not quite reaching his eyes. "But it might sound better coming from a white guy."

Rosie clenched her jaw tight, forcing herself not to say a word. Glenn shook his head, making it look to all the world that he agreed with Shane and was frustrated that the guy was right, but Rosie knew better. Daryl wasn't like that, he was just really good at pretending he was.

"I did what I did," T-dog said, a glazed look in his eye. "Hell if I'm gonna hide from him."

"We could lie," Amy suggested, looking up at her sister. Like that was a good idea. Daryl was probably the most observant person in the goddamn camp, there was no way he wouldn't pick up on a lie like that.

"Or tell the truth," Andrea said. "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us killed." She turned to Lori with defiant eyes. "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's."

Dale looked less than convinced. "And that's what we _tell_ Daryl? I don't see a rational discussion to be had from _that_ , do you?"

"Might be rational if Rosie tells him," Andrea said, her eyes flicking up to the woman in question.

Rosie stilled, finally looking up at the group. "You want me to tell him?"

"You're his friend," she said.

Rosie shook her head, a little huff on her lips. "I can't tell him. I'm too pissed at him to do it nicely."

"Whoever tells him, word to the wise...we're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt." Dale looked around the group with wild eyes.

"I was scared and I ran. I'm not ashamed of it," T-dog said, glancing around at them.

"We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asked softly, her eyes somewhat tired and bordering on exhausted.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door," T-dog said. Glenn turned to look at him, an almost incredulous look on his face. "Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. Not enough to break through it. Not that chain. Not that padlock." He shook his head. "My point...Dixon's alive. And he's still up there. Handcuffed on that roof."

The group were now all looking at T-dog with mildly horrified eyes, expressions of disbelief and guilt and resignation that at least one of them would likely end up going back for him.

"That's on us," T-dog finished, standing up and walking away from the campfire.

Shane turned to Rosie, frowning gently at her. "Why are you pissed with Dixon?"

Rosie chewed on her lip, not sure how to answer that without explaining about the monster in the woods.

"'Cause he's still in there after dark," Glenn said with a nod of his head towards the trees, answering for her.

"Why does it matter if it's after dark," Shane said. "He's a big boy. Can handle himself."

Rosie nodded. "I know."

"You seem awful worried for someone who's just his friend," Amy said, a teasing smirk on her lips.

Rosie rolled her eyes and shook her head. She tried not to take it personally. Amy was only doing what normal girls their age did; tease each other about boys. If Rosie had gotten to grow up like Amy, chances are she would have ended up Amy's best friend in all this and not Daryl's.

Shane shifted irritably, almost glaring at Amy. "He's nearly twice her age-"

Amy scoffed. "End of the world Shane. You really think numbers matter that much anymore?"

Rosie felt her lips twitch, smiling a little at Amy. She was the only one who seemed to get that.

"Still, wouldn't be right," Shane said, shaking his head.

Rosie felt her jaw tick as she turned her head to glare at Shane. "I'm pretty sure that's between him and me. If I was cool with it and he was cool with it, how would it be anyone else's business? Huh?"

"Hey, we're just trying to look out for you," Shane said, staring her down. "The Dixons are far from angels-"

"They're far from demons too," Rosie said.

"You're young, you haven't got the experience we do," Shane started, his tone somewhat patronizing. "I know guys like Daryl and Merle. I've met a hundred of 'em. They might not be the worst of the worst but...they ain't much better."

"Then I hate to tell you Shane, but you haven't actually met the worst of the worst," Rosie said, pulling herself to her feet and making her way out of the cozy little circle surrounding the campfire.

"I was a cop, I think you've forgotten that," Shane called after her, shaking his head as though losing this battle was a given. As though she was a child that wouldn't believe Daryl was hot to the touch until she got burnt.

"You don't know me," Rosie answered as she went. "I think _you've_ forgotten _that_."

  
.......

The next morning, Rosie found herself pacing the campsite like a caged animal. She watched with a small amount of amusement as Dale, Jim and Morales picked apart the rather beautiful Dodge Charger Glenn had brought back from the city, while he looked on in what appeared to be a small amount of actual physical pain.

Shane had just brought water back, Rick was talking to Lori, whose face had just dropped like a lead balloon, meaning whatever he was saying wasn't good. At least for the two of them. Amy and Andrea missed that bit, choosing only to see the loved up way the couple had greeted each other. People always forgot there was more under the surface if you'd just look for more then ten seconds.

Carol was ironing Rick's shirt for god knows what reason. Rosie put a lot of Carol's routines down to habit and her incessant need to cling to the known. Being married to a guy like Ed can't have been easy. He was definitely the possessive, controlling, almost definitely abusive type. And yet, Daryl Dixon and his brother were not much better than the worst of the worst. Carol was the kind of woman who'd clean up after murdering her own husband, just because _he'd_ have hated the mess.

A scream suddenly erupted from just inside the woods, where the kids were. She'd tried her level best to argue against doing _anything_ in those woods but Shane knew better. The camp knew better. Rosie gripped the silver knife at her belt as she wondered towards it, watching as all the men ducked under their shit ass excuse for an alarm system while the women comforted the children and stood back. It was like it was 1953 again.

Everyone thought it was walkers. In their little minds, what else could it be? Rosie knew better, so she went slow, she took her time, she listened and kept her wits about her. As she stepped into the clearing she breathed a sigh of relief, rolling her eyes. If she could have played ' _Don't stop me now_ ' by Queen, it would have looked like a kind of sick but fairly accurate portrayal of the scene from Shaun of the Dead, in the bar, where everyone's beating the crap out of zombie-landlord without actually doing a damn thing.

Rick, Shane, Morales, Jim, Dale, were all bashing the dead guy whichever way they could. Rosie took a second to mull over the fact that ' _zombie_ ' had weirdly not become a term anyone used for the dead. It was like calling them zombies just made it too fake, too childish, too movie-like. They weren't in a movie, this was all too real.

Finally, Dale swung the axe he was holding and cut the head clean off. Rosie hung back, knowing it didn't make the guy any more dead than he had been before, just a little bit more dismembered and therefore easier to contain. She crept around the group, Amy and Andrea having joined them. She ended up standing next to a small mound of rocks, looking at the dead and the deer it had been feasting on.

"It's the first one we've had come up here," Dale said. "They never come this far up the mountain."

She noticed a few arrows sticking out of the half eaten animal. _Daryl_. Her stomach lurched and twisted on the spot, her eyes scouring the woodland all around her, looking for some sign that he was back. That he wasn't dead or dying.

"They're running out of food in the city," Jim said, nodding at the geek.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, Daryl appeared from behind the out cropping of rocks she was stood against. Shane had the shotgun in his face before he'd realised who it was, lowering it just as quickly once he did.

"Oh Jesus," Shane sighed, relaxing much the same as everyone else did.

"Don't _do_ that!" Rosie shrieked at him, slapping at him with her hands in frustrated outrage.

"Nice ta see you too," he grumbled, his lips twitching.

"Where the hell have you been?!" she snapped.

"Huntin'," he said, looking at her like she was nuts. His eyes flicked down towards the deer and he got real mad, real quick. "Son of bitch!" he cried, looking at it. "That's _my_ deer. Look at it. All gnawed on by this filthy, disease-ridden, motherless, poxy bastard!" He kicked the walker several times, each kick punctuated with another adjective. Rosie merely rolled her eyes and folded her arms.

"Calm down son, that's not helping," Dale said. The tension had just rocketed again, everyone now acutely aware that someone was going to have to tell him what happened to Merle.

Daryl stalked up to Dale. "What d'you know 'bout it ol' man? Why don' ya take that stupid hat an' go back ta _On Golden Pond_." He sighed and looked at the deer. "I been trackin' this deer fer miles."

Rosie watched him. He was agitated. Not a good start for what was to come, but it wasn't because his efforts were for nothing. He hadn't had an easy night. She could tell by the way his shoulders were set, the way he paced around the clearing, his heightened sense of wariness.

"You said you'd be back before dark," Rosie murmured, her eyes meeting his as they flicked up to her. "You said you wouldn't stay in the woods past dark."

He didn't answer, but started pulling the arrows out of the deer as everyone watched him. "Was gonna drag it back ta camp. Cook us up some venison." He crouched down a little, peering at the damage. "What d'ya think? Think we can cut 'round this chewed up part righ' here?" he asked.

Shane had swung his shotgun so it was now across his shoulders, looking at Rick with a 'told you so' kind of expression. "I would not risk that," he said, almost in amusement.

Daryl sighed. "Tha's a damn shame." He stood up and gestured to the squirrel carcasses all tied up and thrown over his shoulder. "I got some squirrel, 'bout a dozen or so. That'll have ta do."

The decapitated head of the walker started snapping at their feet and Amy scrunched her nose up, looking at it in disgust.

"Oh god," she said. Andrea put her arm around her little sister and led her away, looking just as horrified.

Daryl just huffed. "Come on people, what the hell?" He raised his crossbow and shot straight through the eye, setting his boot on it as he pulled the arrow back out. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin'?" He looked over his shoulder at Rosie as he turned to walk back to camp. " _You_ do."

Everyone looked at her and then followed him, trepidation rising after he started shouting for Merle. Rosie just waited patiently for them all to wonder after him, leaving her alone in the clearing. She listened to the woods again for a moment, watching for movement, trying to see if anything followed Daryl back to camp. After a few minutes she left, still uneasy but unable to hear anything above the ruckus that was Daryl's reaction to Merle's fate so far.

By the time she'd caught up with everyone else, Shane had him in a chokehold. She felt the sudden urge to roll her eyes at the obvious amount of testosterone and adrenaline running through the three men. She wanted to intervene, tell Rick and Shane to let him go, give him a minute, but she knew Daryl wouldn't appreciate that anymore than they would.

"I wanna have a calm discussion on this topic. D'you think we can manage that?" Rick said, leaning in closer to talk to Daryl as he strained against the hold Shane had on him. "D'you think we can manage that?"

Glenn came and stood next her as she watched, shaking her head at the impeccable way everyone was handling this.

"He went after Rick with a knife," Glenn whispered, filling her in on the bit she'd missed.

"Was this before or after he was told by a stranger that his brother was chained up and left behind?" Rosie whispered back pointedly.

Shane let go of Daryl after Rick gave him a nod. Daryl stayed panting on the floor, looking at everyone and no one all at once. Rosie ran a frustrated and rather pained hand through her hair. It was like no one could see how fucking unfair this was. So Merle was an asshole. He was still Daryl's brother. And what? They expected him to just accept what had happened without a fight and agree that Merle deserved what he got? Like any of them would, roles reversed? And now everyone was stood around judging Daryl for the pain he was in and how he was handling it. It wasn't fair.

"What I did was not on a whim," Rick said. "Your brother does not work and play well with others."

Understatement of the fucking century, Rosie thought. It wasn't like Daryl needed that explained to him. Merle didn't work or play well with _Daryl_ , let alone any fucker else. Why he'd insisted on going into the city with the others was beyond her.

T-dog stepped up and looked at Daryl. "It's not Rick's fault. I had the key. I dropped it."

Daryl scoffed, his voice breaking just enough to hear. "Ya couldn' pick it up?"

"Well, I dropped it in a drain," he said.

Daryl choked, twisting to pull himself up off the floor and stand. He could barely look at any of them. "If it's s'pposed ta make me feel better, it don't." He went to stalk off, past everyone, when T-dog spoke again.

"Well, maybe this will," he said. "Look, I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get to him...with a padlock."

"It's gotta count for something," Rick said, watching Daryl as he wiped angry tears out of his eyes.

"Hell with all y'all!" he snapped. "Jus' tell me where he is so's I can go get him."

"He'll show you. Isn't that right?" Lori said, looking at Rick like she already knew the answer and hated it.

"I'm going back," Rick said, watching as Lori stormed off into the camper. He sighed but he seemed unwilling to break his resolve. 

Rosie blew out a breath, shaking her head as she watched everyone else dissolve back into their natural states. Amy and Andrea went back to sorting washing with Carol. Lori went back to brooding. Shane went back to his shakey leadership, Rick defiantly being the Hero. All these people were gonna die and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. Except follow them blindly and dodge Death when she came, if she paid enough attention and got a little lucky.

Rick came back out of his tent a few minutes later, buttoning up his nice clean shirt.

"So that's it, huh?" Shane asked, coming to walk beside him as he went. "You're just gonna walk off? To hell with everyone else?"

Rosie frowned at that. Shane was doing no more than going through the motions. He couldn't give two shits whether Rick left or not. He wanted the guy gone no matter what he did. For a best friend, he hadn't looked even remotely happy when the guy rocked up and reclaimed his family.

"I'm not saying to hell with anybody," Rick said. "Not to you Shane. Lori least of all."

"Tell her that," Shane said, following him up to the van.

Rick stopped and turned to face him. "She knows."

Shane's jaw ticked as Rick started walking again and he had no choice but to follow if he wanted the conversation to continue.

"Well, I...I don't, okay Rick? So could you just, could you throw me a bone here man?" He stopped and sighed, shaking his head. "Could you just tell me why? Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?"

"Hey," Daryl called, not far from where they'd stopped. "Choose yer words more caref'ly."

"Oh no, I did," Shane said, matter-of-factly, putting his hands on his hips. "Douche bag's what I meant. Merle Dixon...the guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst."

He wasn't wrong. If Shane were dying of thirst, Rosie would not bet that Merle would give him a glass of water even if he had a hundred. There were a lot of people Merle wouldn't give a glass of water to, but she liked _her_ odds. Daryl didn't seem to argue with Shane's assessment either.

"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me," Rick said, staring Shane down. " _I_ can't let a man die of thirst. Me." He shook his head and sighed, trying to find the words to explain it. To explain that he had a moral code that wasn't dependant on anyone else's actions but his own. "Thirst and exposure." He took another breath. "We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human."

If Rosie had to pick a moment where she knew she liked Rick, this would have been it. It didn't matter to Rick that Merle was an asshole nobody liked, that he deserved what he got. It only mattered that Rick put right what was wrong, that he stayed human and humane. That he still owned his actions and took responsibility for the things he could control.

"So you and Daryl, that's your big plan?" Lori said, folding her arms after having re-emerged from the camper.

It's like no one had been paying any attention the entire time they'd been here. Daryl was a sure fucking thing in this new world, it was like he was made to survive it.

Rick hadn't been around long enough to know that, so Rosie couldn't blame him when he turned around and looked straight at Glenn.

"Oh come on!" Glenn cried, flinging his arms up in the air.

"You know the way, you've been there before. In and out, no problem. You said so yourself." Rick shot him a look that was equal parts pleading, apologetic and guilty. "Its not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too." He nodded at Lori and Glenn looked up at her, Carl tucked into her side.

Shane grit his teeth and shook his head. "That's just great, now you're gonna risk three men, huh?"

"Four," T-dog spoke up.

Daryl huffed. "My day jus' gets better an' better, don' it?"

"You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?" T-dog snapped.

"Why you?" Daryl asked.

"You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language." T-dog stared at him but before Daryl could argue, Dale had already opened his mouth.

"That's four," he said.

"It's not just four," Shane argued. "You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick." He had a point, Rosie wouldn't deny that. "Come on, you saw that walker. It was _here_. It was _in_ camp. They're moving out of the cities. They come back, we need every able body we got." He sighed. "We need 'em here. We need 'em to _protect_ camp."

"It seems to me what you really need most here are guns," Rick said.

"Right! The guns!" Glenn nodded, clearly recalling something that had happened in Atlanta.

"Wait, what guns?" Shane asked. Rosie could see the gears in his head turning. God, men like Shane could be so easily distracted by something shiny and dangerous.

"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen hand guns. I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left." Rick shrugged. "I dropped the bag back in Atlanta when I got swarmed. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up."

"Ammo?" Shane asked. Rosie could see Rick was going to get his way. Shane would come around now that guns and ammo were on the table.

"700 rounds, assorted," Rick said, knowing he'd won, at least against Shane.

Lori was a whole other matter, stepping forward, her eyes flickering over his face, trying to understand what the hell he was playing at. "You went through hell to find us. You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?"

"Dad, I don't want you to go," Carl spoke up, pleading eyes on his father.

"To hell with guns, Shane is _right_ ," Lori snapped. "Merle Dixon? He's not worth _one_ of your lives, even with guns thrown in." Rosie saw Daryl flinch but he stayed silent. "Tell me," Lori said, her eyes boring directly into Rick's. "Make me understand."

Rick sighed and shook his head. "I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy." He looked up at his wife. "Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died. It's because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn them."

"What's stopping you?" she asked.

"The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped," Rick said. "He's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer."

Shane scrunched his face up as he looked at Rick, seeming to understand him now. "These our walkies?"

"Yeah," Rick said.

"So use the C.B, what's wrong with that?" Andrea said, having been stood on the sidelines watching since Lori came out othe camper.

"The C.B's fine. It's the walkies that suck to crap," Shane said. "Date back to the seventies, don't match any other bandwidth, not even the scanners in our cars."

"I need that bag," Rick said, looking at Lori. Rosie could see the poor woman hated it, but she couldn't say no.

Rick set his hand on Carl's shoulder and bent down to look him the eye. "Okay?"

Carl nodded. "Alright."

Rosie turned away and started walking back to her car, not in the mood to be around anybody right then. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being left alone, again.

"Hey," Daryl called to her, grabbing hold of her arm as Rick and T-dog wondered off to talk to Dale and Jim. He pulled her gently around to face him. "'m sorry."

She was a full head-height higher than him since they were halfway up the hill. She just stared at him, not really knowing what to say.

"For what?"

"Fer not comin' back when I said I would," he grumbled.

Rosie shrugged. "You're not the first. I managed."

Daryl scowled at her. "Don' do that," he said, pointing a finger at her. "Don' shut me out 'cause I pissed ya off."

"So what do you want me to do Daryl? Hit you?" she snapped. "You think that might make it better?"

"Everything okay here?" Shane asked, coming up behind Daryl.

"We're fine Shane," Rosie said, her irritation lacing every word.

"Just checking. Dixon's been a bit volatile since he got back," Shane said, looking at her with his 'told you so' face.

Rosie practically growled. "Tell you what Shane, handcuff _my_ brother to a goddamn roof in the middle of the city and leave him there, see how volatile I can fucking be."

Daryl looked at her in surprise, but she couldn't work out if it was because she'd spoken to Shane like that or because she'd actually defended him and meant it.

"Hey, there's no need for that now," Shane said, taking a step towards her and holding out a hand.

"Just leave me alone, both of you," Rosie said, shaking her head tiredly and turning away.

"Hey," Daryl said, grabbing hold of her again. "I said I was sorry."

"The lady told you to leave her alone," Shane said, giving Daryl a dark look.

"Jus' stay out of it, I ain't gonna hurt her," Daryl huffed. He looked back up at Rosie. "I said I'm sorry. I meant it."

Rosie sighed but nodded. "I know. I'm just on edge."

"Ya should be," he said, his eyes locked on hers, willing her to understand him without saying anything since Shane was still breathing down his neck.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Shane barked. "Are you threatening her?"

"I know what it means," Rosie said, rolling her eyes and glaring at Shane. "It's not a threat, okay? So just back off and give us a minute."

"I don't trust him," Shane said.

"I don't care. I do." Rosie folded her arms and waited patiently, and defiantly, for Shane to take a few steps back. She sighed and set her eyes back on Daryl's face. "City won't be any different, you know that right?" She was aware Shane was still in ear shot even if he wasn't in their space.

Daryl nodded. "I know. I'll be careful."

She reached into his t-shirt and pulled out the talisman she'd given him a few weeks ago. "Do not take this off. Okay?" Her eyes flicked up to his and the intensity in them sort of took her breath away.

"Haven't yet," he murmured.

"You come back without this, we're gonna have a fight," she said. "A real one."

Daryl scoffed. "I told ya not ta play chicken wi' me," he said, the twitch of a smile on his face.

Rosie rolled her eyes and tried not to smile back but failed. "Try not to be a total jackass out there," she said, letting go of the pendant and grimacing at him a little bit. "I know you're pissed as all hell and you've got good reason to be, but they aren't bad people."

Daryl huffed. "Ain't exactly good neither."

Rosie raised both her eyebrows at him. "Show me someone who is," she said.

"Startin' ta think _you_ might be," he muttered, chewing on his thumb and looking at the floor.

She snorted at that, folding her arms around her waist and feeling her cheeks warm again. Asshole. He kept doing that to her. "And here I thought you were the smartest one out of all of us."

"Pfft..." He scuffed his boot on the floor and met her eyes for the briefest of seconds. "Ya need ya eyes an' yer head checkin' girl. Ain't nothin' smart 'bout me."

Rosie wasn't really sure what to say about that so she swerved it and swung the topic back around to Merle. "He'll be okay, you know that, right?" she said. "Merle's a stubborn son of a bitch. There's no way the asshole's dying unless he wants to die."

Daryl snorted. "Ya got that right."

Rosie nodded and took a step back. "See you when you get back."

"Yeah..." Daryl turned to leave and then threw her a last look over his shoulder. "We're still friends, right?"

Rosie grinned. "Sure, so long as you actually come back."

"Can't promise it'll be before dark," he teased.

"Piss off Dixon," she huffed, turning herself and stalking off, shaking her head.

..............

Rosie spent most of the day sat on top of the cliff that dropped off into the quarry and the lake, watching everyone. She watched Shane try and catch frogs with Carl, she watched Andrea, Amy, Jacqui and Carol do the washing while Ed looked on, she saw Lori argue with Shane and then Shane beat the shit out of Ed. She watched Amy and Andrea do some fishing and bring in a pretty impressive haul. Then, she watched everyone get freaked out that Jim had been digging holes all day.

Rosie wondered down off the top of her little perch when nearly half the camp seemed to take it upon themselves to stop Jim and then tie him up. She was sat in her tent (having lasted a total of three and half weeks in her car) when Shane and Dale wondered up to give Jim some water.

"Jim, take some water?" Shane asked, offering the cup out to him.

Jim nodded. "Alright."

"Yeah? Alright." Shane put the cup against Jim's lip and tipped it so he could drink. "Here you go, bud."

"Pour some on my head?" Jim asked as he finished drinking.

"Yeah," Shane said, tipping the cup over Jim's head and letting the water run down his face. "Cooling you down, huh?"

"Yeah," Jim said, a slight smile on his lips. He looked back up at Shane. "How long you gonna keep me like this?"

Shane grimaced a little but looked him in the eyes. "Well, yeah...until I don't think you're a danger to yourself or others."

Rosie was only listening in and out, taking the time to clean some of her guns and knives and sort her pack out. She liked to be ready to leave at a moments notice, so every few days she went through her holdall and made sure she could snatch it up and run if she ever needed to.

Jim looked passed Shane at Lori and Carol, sat at a small table working with Carl and Sophia.

"I'm sorry if I scared your boy and your little girl," he said.

Lori gave him a wary smile. "You had sunstroke. Nobody's blaming you."

"You're not scared now, are you?" he asked.

"No Sir," Sophia answered, almost as though it was a habit to answer an adult whichever way was most likely to please them. Considering who her father was, it wasn't exactly surprising.

"Your mama's right," he said to Carl. "Sun just cooked my head, is all."

"Jim, do you know why you were digging?" Dale asked, looking forlornly down at the man. "Can you say?"

"I had a reason. I don't remember," Jim said, shrugging his shoulders as best be could. "Something I dreamt last night." Rosie stilled. Everyone else would write that off as a coincidence, but she knew dreams could be so much more than _just_ dreams.

"Your dad was in it," Jim said, nodding at Carl. "You were too. You were worried about him. Can't remember the rest." He frowned a little. "You worried about your dad?"

"They're not back yet," Carl mumbled.

"We don't need to talk about that," Lori said, smoothing a hand over Carl's head. As though she could protect the kid from the world and all it's new horrors. Carl was smarter than his mom gave him credit for.

"Your dad's a police officer, son," Jim said, carrying on regardless. "He helps people. Probably just came across some folks needing help, that's all." He nodded to himself and swallowed. "That man, he is tough as nails. I don't know him well but...I could see it in him. Am I right?"

"Oh yeah," Shane said with a small chuckle.

"There ain't nothing gonna stop him from getting back here to you and your mom, I promise you that," he said, nodding at Carl as though he knew for sure. Which he very well might, Rosie mused, he just didn't know the difference between a dream and a fucking premonition.

"Alright. Who wants to help me clean some fish, huh?" Shane said, looking at the kids. Jim was not helping to ease the adults any, Rosie could see by the looks on their faces.

"Sweet. Come on, Sophia," Carl said, jumping up from the table and going to follow Shane. Sophia wasn't far behind and Carol brought up the rear.

"Stay with Carol, alright?" Lori called after Carl.

Rosie watched out of the corner of her eye as Lori approached Jim, looking as though she was going to say something, tell him to mind his own business or shut the hell up. Before she could even get the words out of her mouth, Jim was talking, his eyes boring into hers.

"You keep your boy close. You don't ever let him out of your sight," he said. All the words seemed to leave Lori and she just nodded, walking off after her son.

Rosie gave it a minute before slipping out of her tent and coming to sit with Jim.

"Rosie," Jim said with a smile. "Did I scare you, too?"

Rosie laughed softly. "Takes a lot more than that to scare me."

Jim nodded, a small scoff escaping his lips.

"Any chance you remember more of this dream than you're letting on?" Rosie asked, picking at her fingers as she spoke.

"What? You gonna tell me you put a lot of stock in a crazy man's dreams?" Jim said.

Rosie shrugged. "Maybe."

Jim took a deep breath and shook his head, near to tears again. "No, I don't. I wish I did. Feels important, you know?"

"Those holes," Rosie said. "They look like graves."

Jim shook his head again. "They can't be, can they?"

Rosie sighed. "I don't know Jim. I really don't know."

Jim chewed on his lip for second before looking up at her. "There is one thing extra I remember," he said. "Daryl was in it. He was with Rick."

Rosie nodded. "Thanks."

"He means a lot to you," Jim said, a statement not a question.

She nodded again. "He does."

"Wish I meant that much to someone," Jim said. "Wish it was the same someone I always meant that much too..."

"I'm really sorry Jim, about what happened to your family," Rosie murmured. "Really sorry."

Jim looked up at her and caught her eye. "You see any of your family eaten alive?" he asked. There was a slight harshness to his tone. Like her sorry wouldn't mean nearly as much if she didn't know what it felt like. She understood that.

Rosie stayed quiet, shrugging a shoulder. "Not by the dead. Not in this new world."

Jim paused and frowned at that. "By something else?"

Rosie stilled, not sure how to answer that.

"Rosie, they think I'm crazy already," Jim said. "Whatever you tell me, they're not going to believe."

Rosie took a deep breath and looked up at him. "My eldest brother, Dean...he got torn to shreds by a hellhound."

Jim frowned. "A hellhound? Is that a nickname for some certain breed of dog?"

Rosie shook her head. "No. It's a dog from hell. A literal demon dog."

Jim scoffed again and shook his head. "And I'm the one they tied up."

Rosie chuckled at that. "Yeah...sorry."

"You gonna sit with me the rest of the day?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Well, I'm not gonna leave you up here alone and unable to defend yourself."

"Thanks," Jim said.

Rosie nodded. 

......

Several hours later and all hell had broken loose. Everyone sat down to a fish fry and it was like the dead could smell the feast too, among others. Rosie took a breath, the silence ringing in her ears as she stood in the centre of the chaos pointing her gun at a feral stranger, long claws for fingernails, dog-like fangs and wolfish eyes.

No one was moving. Rick had come back with T-dog, Glenn and Daryl. Amy was all but gone, just not dead, yet. Shane had Lori and Carl backed up behind him, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. Carol and Sophia were whimpering right next to them.

Rosie had seen the dead, and then she'd seen things that weren't the dead. Things that proceeded to mimic the dead until they'd overpowered their prey and could feast on them without worry, ripping their hearts out and gorging themselves. One almost got Rick till she'd kicked it down and shot it through the head with a silver bullet. She'd twisted around and taken out three more the same way, her gun swung up to hit the fifth when it pulled Glenn in front of it, ceasing the fight.

The walkers were all down, the werewolves in sight were all dead. Everyone had stopped breathing.

"Hunter," it breathed, flexing it's fingers around Glenn's neck.

"Werewolf," Rosie said, nodding at it, her hand steady.

"You wanna tell me your name, doll? See if it makes me tremble?" it scoffed. "Mine's Bane."

"Fitting," Rosie said. She didn't often like to share her name, because it _did_ come with a certain amount of fame. And usually it served to escalate a situation, not stop it. This time, however, she figured she'd make an exception, since the bastard was all alone and didn't know it, and he deserved to flinch.

"I'm Rosie. Rosie Winchester."

Bane did flinch, taking an instinctive step back. It was hard not to miss the fear that flicked over his face. Rosie shot him in the shoulder and he howled, letting go of Glenn.

"Bitch!" he roared, holding his bleeding shoulder and hissing. "The rest of my pack will devour you first!"

Rosie shook her head. "Not if they're in the woods they won't."

Bane swung around to look at the tree line and sure enough, nothing moved. He turned back to Rosie. "Where are they?" he growled. "What have you done to them?!" He took a step forwards and Rosie narrowed her eyes at him.

"I didn't do anything," Rosie said. "But your kind aren't the only kind that are desperate. There's a wendigo in the woods, and you all look alive and human enough to keep it fed for a few decades, at least."

Bane roared and went to run towards her. He didn't get very far as Rosie squeezed the trigger, a bullet flying forward and hitting him straight between the eyes. She took a breath and lowered the gun, slipping it back into the holster she had on around her waist. She didn't know which way to move, because no one else had started breathing yet.

"Told ya proof'd walk itself straight at us when it was hungry," Daryl spoke up, looking straight at Glenn.

It was like the dam broke and everyone moved and spoke all at once. Andrea was on her knees, looking at a dying Amy. Carl ran to Rick. Dead bodies were strewn everywhere. Jim looked up at Rosie.

"I remember my dream now," he said. "Why I dug the holes."

Rosie let out a scornful little sob but pulled herself together. "I figured as much," she said.

"You did, didn't you?" he said, and he meant it to sound warm, understanding even, but all it sounded like to her was proof she was fucking crazy.

"What the hell is a wendigo?" Shane asked, stomping up to her. "And what the hell was that... _thing_...you just took out?"

"A wendigo is a 7ft tall cannibal turned creature that hunts humans in order to drag them back to it's lair and feast on them before it hibernates again for eleven more years," Rosie said. "And that _thing_ ," she pointed at Bane, "was a werewolf. First to fourth generation because it's nowhere near the full moon and he still looked like a fucking animal."

"You don't seem to have much trouble adjusting to this shit," Shane growled. "In fact, you seem to know an awful lot about it."

"I told you that you didn't know me," Rosie argued.

Shane roared. "Why the _hell_ would you let us sleep next to these woods knowing what was out there?!"

"Because it couldn't get to us!" Rosie barked. "I made sure it couldn't. Why the fuck d'you think I spent half a day looking like I'd gone nuts carving weird-ass symbols into the goddamn tree line!"

"'Cause you said it would make you feel better!" Shane cried.

"It did! I knew I wasn't gonna get dragged off in the middle of the night!" Rosie said.

"Daryl helped you!" Shane said, gesturing to the redneck stood just behind Rosie, crossbow swinging lazily at his side.

"Daryl _knew_." Rosie let that one sink in for a moment, watching the way Shane seemed to struggle with it.

"You told Daryl but not me?" he said.

Rosie bit her lip just to stop herself from screaming. She knew all too well that had she told Shane, he'd have laughed in her face and told her to stop being so stupid. She also knew he'd never admit that.

"Daryl saw some strange markings in there, he mentioned them and I told him what I thought they were," Rosie said, keeping her voice as soft and calm as she could.

"So you never saw it?" Lori said. "So it might not even have been in there? It might not even have been real?"

"It was in there alright," Daryl said, looking up at them all. "Damn thing was circlin' me all night when I got stuck out there. It was real."

"How did you stop it?" Carl asked, frowning at him.

"Drew them weird-ass symbols in the ground around me," Daryl said, bringing his eyes back up to Rosie. "Stayed _inside_ the circle."

Rosie's lips twitched, pleased he'd taken the time to listen to her and actually trust her.

"We had a right to know," Shane said, glaring at her.

Rosie shrugged. "What d'you want me to say?" She looked forlornly at them all. "Seriously, what d'you want me to say? I've been apologising nearly half my life for knowing this shit, for being right about it, for being the one who isn't actually crazy at all." She took a breath and stared them all down. "If I'd come to you, early on, told you that I hunt fairytales and horror stories for a job, can any of you honestly tell me you'd have believed me? Hell, _Jim_ freaked you all out just digging some damn holes!"

"Hey," Daryl said, reaching out a hand and gently grabbing her elbow. He waited for her eyes to find his. "Ya don' gotta explain yerself. Not ta me. Not ta these people. Not ta no one."

Rosie scoffed and rolled her eyes, wiping a stray tear as it fell down her face. "I _always_ have to explain myself, to everyone. But I appreciate the sentiment."

"No, Daryl's right," Rick said, stepping up beside Shane. "You saved us all. If you weren't here, we'd all be dead. Thank you."

Rosie nodded, turning away and trudging back to the outside of the group. She didn't want to be a part of it much anymore. They were all looking at her too different now, and not in a good way. Daryl followed her as she wondered back to one of the campfires, taking a seat next to the dying embers. Before he could say a word, she practically turned on him and fished the stupid pendant she'd given him out of the the front of his shirt. She sighed in relief.

He wrapped a hand around hers as she held it, forcing her eyes to his. "I'm still me," he said.

She dropped the pendant and his hand, nodding. She sniffed and wiped her eyes angrily, hating that she'd let herself get close enough to hurt. _God_. You'd think she'd have learnt by now.

"I miss my brothers," Rosie said, heaving in a deep breath, sobbing as quietly as she could. "I really _really_ miss them."

Daryl grunted, offering her a small nod.

"I never had to feel alone with them, you know?" she whispered, looking up at Glenn for a second as he came to sit the other side of her. "Never felt all that crazy. Like even when people realise it's all real, you're still fucking crazy. You're crazy for believing that shit with no proof and then you're crazy for being all tied up to it when there is proof..."

Daryl sighed. "I ain't gonna tell ya yer sane. With or without this shit, yer fucking crazy..."

Rosie part-scoffed and part-laughed. "Thanks," she said.

He nudged her shoulder gently, waiting for her eyes to meet his again. "But when it comes to what people do and don' wanna believe, what they _choose_ ta see...fuck 'em. That ain't on you."

Rosie shrugged.

"If what they see in ya ain't the whole picture, ain't nobody missin' out and screwin' up but them. Trust me," he said. "Don' let 'em get in yer head. Ya are who ya are. If their life don' teach 'em that your life made you, fuck 'em."

"Wow," Glenn said. "That's some profound shit coming from a guy who not that long ago threatened a kid with his brother's severed hand."

"What?!" Rosie's head snapped up, her eyes going straight back to Daryl's. "What the hell happened out there? And where the fuck is Merle?" she said, realising she hadn't heard his dulcet tones among those that had returned.

"Ya finally noticed, huh?" Daryl grumbled.

"Oh I'm sorry, the walkers and the werewolves had me a little distracted," Rosie growled back. "Next time I'll ask them nicely to stand still so we can have a little catch up."

Daryl glared at her.

"Where's Merle?" she repeated.

Daryl shrugged. "Don' know," he said. "Found his sawed off hand on the roof where they left him. Evidence tha' he managed ta cuaterise the stump. Then...well, then shit went down."

"Shit," Rosie sighed.

Glenn took over, trying to explain the crazy day they'd had. "We went to get the guns 'cause we didn't wanna walk around Atlanta unarmed, and then I got kidnapped by gangsta-granny-savers who nearly got us all killed and then we gave like half the guns away to them, and then it was getting dark and someone stole the truck, which we think was Merle, and then we started running back here 'cause we were afraid Merle was coming back, with vengeance, but really it was just all hell breaking loose. Literally." He took a breath as he finished.

Rosie smirked. "I've actually seen all hell break loose, literally. It wasn't quite that bad."

Glenn chose to ignore that. "What happened to you guys while we were gone?"

"Shane had an arguement with Lori and then beat the shit out of Ed. Jim started digging holes and half the camp tied him to a tree. Then we had a fish fry." She gave both the boys beside her a wry look and they both snorted and laughed at about the same time. She chuckled.

"So, what do we do now?" Glenn asked.

"Gather up the dead, salt and burn them all, move on," Rosie said. "We can't stay here now. Hell, that ruckus we all just made will keep drawing them for a while. And I get the impression that no one really wants to stay next to the woods that a wendigo lives in."

"Told you we should have told them," Glenn said.

Rosie scoffed. "If I'd told them, they'd have sent me packing for being insane and then you all would've been eaten by the damn thing, or by the werewolves that decided Walker-disguises are pretty effective when your food supply is living human beings."

Glenn shivered. "Fair point."

"You just don't like keeping secrets," she said.

Glenn grumbled. "No, I don't. Gives me stomach ache."

Rosie chuckled, smiling at him.

"I honestly don't know how you do it so easily," he said, smiling back.

Rosie forced the smile to stay on her face and simply offered him a nod, her eyes growing sad. She wasn't sure how to tell him how lucky he was, for secrets not to go hand in hand with survival.

The three of them sat like that for a while, waiting for the sun to come up so they could start clearing up the dead and fighting the living. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel I need to explain that each part of this series of fics is going to be one season of TWD. Rosie and Daryl won't act on any emerging romantic feelings until the beginning of season 4 - which will be part four of this 'Lay Your World On Me' series. I really mean the slowest of slow burns! 
> 
> I've got the whole of season 1 written, which is what I'm posting right now and why it's almost daily. I'm hoping to do the same with each season so there might be a break between each part. I sort of started posting without any real explanation of what I was doing, so I just wanted to give everyone a heads up! Hope you all continue to enjoy it!


	4. Hell and High Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the group clean up from the walker and werewolf attack, Daryl does his best to keep his eye on Rosie.

Daryl muttered to himself as he swung the pick axe down again, burying it in another walker's skull. T-dog and Glenn were throwing them on a fire Rosie had built up. He watched as Rick approached Andrea, still knelt over Amy. Andrea drew her gun on him, pointing at his head and Rick had no choice but to back off, his hands raised. 

Daryl scoffed and kept swinging, making sure the dead stayed dead. Someone needed to deal with it. Someone needed to end it before it began. He huffed on over to the little group that were murmuring between themselves, frustrated that they wouldn't act. No one seemed to wanna upset Andrea, but no one seemed to be thinking about what might happen if she wasn't fast enough when dead-Amy opened her eyes again.

"Ya'll can't be serious? Let tha' girl hamstring us?" Daryl said, disbelieving eyes staring at the rest of the group. "The dead girl's a time bomb." He wasn't wrong. They knew he wasn't wrong. And yet, they were more than happy for her to keep fucking ticking.

"What do you suggest?" Rick asked, looking up at him as though daring him to come up with a better idea. Like upsetting Andrea was the worst thing that could happen right now. 

"Take the shot," Daryl said, looking defiantly at them all. "Clean, in the brain from here." He shook his head, glancing back over his shoulder at the sisters. "Hell, I can hit a turkey 'tween the eyes from this distance."

"No," Lori said, her face screwed up in disgust. "For god's sakes. Let her be."

Daryl glared at her. _Let her be?_ If they let her be long enough, he'd have to put a pick axe in _her_ brain too. Stupid woman. Let her be. She didn't know what she was talking about. The crazy girl's voice was in his damn head as her words floated through his mind. _Her world was never on fire to begin with._

He stomped off in an attempt to clear his head, walking past Jim who seemed to be staring dazedly at nothing.

"Wake up, Jimbo. We got some work ta do," he muttered, shaking the man out of whatever dream state he was in.

He walked over to Morales, helping him pick up the body of a dead camper and started dragging it towards the fire.

"Thanks," Morales said. "Thanks..."

"What are you guys doing?" Glenn said, frowning at them. "This is for geeks." He pointed at the fire where Rosie was stood, now frowning at Glenn. "Our people go over there." He pointed to a small line of bodies.

"What's the difference," Daryl growled. "They're all infected."

"They were all people, Glenn," Rosie said softly. "Just because you didn't know them, doesn't stop them from being people."

" _Our_ people go in that row over there," he said, adamantly. "We don't burn them! We bury them. Understand? Our people go in that row over there." He pointed again, refusing to back down.

Rosie shook her head, walking away from the fire and leaving him to it. Daryl didn't know why she was so upset but he at least knew she wasn't upset with him. Which was new. Usually he was the one being dense about something. He started dragging the body with Morales over to the row Glenn had pointed at.

"Ya reap wha' ya sow," he grumbled to himself, feeling very little sympathy for what had happened.

"You know what? Shut up man," Morales snapped.

"Ya'll left ma brother fer dead," Daryl said. "Ya had this comin'."

They carried on in silence for a few minutes, Morales boring holes into the back of Daryl's head. He couldn't care less. Far as he was concerned, the only person in this God forsaken camp he actually felt any loyalty to at all was Rosie. What did they expect him to say? Because of them, he'd lost the only person who'd ever given a shit about him his whole life, even if it was just a little one. Sure, Merle might have left him to suffer at the hands of their old man, and he might have got him in more trouble than he'd care to remember, but he would have stuck by him no matter what. All they'd ever had was each other and some habits die hard.

He was just about to start dragging another body to it's designated resting place when Jacqui started screaming and pointing at Jim, saying something about him being bitten. Daryl groaned, rolled his eyes and stomped on over. He seemed to do everything with an attitude and he missed the days where he could creep into the woods and know he wasn't being watched. Where he could let all his walls fall away, all his prickly exterior melt off, and just _be_. God, it was exhausting being this untouchable.

Sure enough, Jim had been fucking bitten, and now, instead of _dealing_ with it, they were all stood around _discussing_ it.

"I say we put a pick axe in his head an' the dead girl's an' be done with it," Daryl said.

"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane scoffed, looking at him.

"Yeah, an' I'd thank ya while ya did it," he said. "Annie's right. I wanna die me."

They all seemed to turn their eyes on her and she just nodded. She'd been real quiet since she'd saved all their asses, like if she became invisible they wouldn't kick her out despite the fact they wouldn't survive without her.

"I hate to say it," Dale said, shaking his head. "Never thought I would but...maybe Daryl's right."

"Jim's not a monster Dale," Rick said. "Or some rabid dog."

Dale sighed. "I'm not suggesting-"

"He's sick," Rick said. "A sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

"The line's pretty clear," Daryl said, staring at them all in disbelief. "Zero tolerance for walkers, or them ta be." _Their world was never on fire to begin with_. He looked up at Rosie as her words sailed through his head for the second time that day.

"It's not fair, we know that," Rosie said, hugging her arms around herself. "But...we can't just ignore the fact that he's dangerous. That they're both dangerous."

"What if we can get him help?" Rick asked. "I heard the CDC was working on a cure."

"I heard that too," Shane said. "Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell," he said pointedly.

"What if the CDC is still up and running?" Rick suggested.

"Man, that is a stretch right there," Shane said, shaking his head.

"Why?" Rick huffed.

Daryl couldn't argue with Shane. It was a stretch. A big one. Far as he was concerned, nothing was up and running. It was all dead and gone.

He listened to the two of them hash out the logistics between them, Lori adding her few cents worth when she felt like it. CDC or Fort Benning. Those seemed to be the two choices on the table. Neither of which felt like a good idea to Daryl. He looked across at Rosie, and she scrunched her nose up softly at him, not all that sold on their ideas either.

The more he listened to them, the more he started to question who the hell put them in charge. Sure, they were cops, 'natural born leaders' apparently, although Daryl would argue they were just men who'd worked out how to make their violence untouchable.

Whatever the case, they were all kinds of outta their depth right now. This was unprecedented. Never happened before. It amazed him how quickly people fell into line for societal constructs even after society wasn't a thing anymore. They had no authority, they had no jurisdiction, they were exactly the same as the rest of them.

"You go looking for aspirin," Daryl growled, having had enough of their talking. "Do what ya need ta do." He gripped hold of the pick axe and started towards Jim. "Someone needs ta have some balls ta take care o' this damn problem." He swung the axe up only to hear the click of a gun near his head.

"We don't kill the living," Rick said slowly as Shane stepped between Daryl and Jim.

"That's funny," Daryl huffed, turning to look at Rick over his shoulder. "Comin' from a man who jus' put a gun ta ma head."

"We may disagree on some things," Shane said, clearly speaking about him and Rick, "not on this. You put it down," he said, gesturing to Daryl to drop the pick axe. "Go on."

Daryl growled and dropped the pick axe, stomping off as he heard Rick talking to Jim about putting him somewhere safe. He crashed his way into the tree line, only hearing the light footsteps behind him after a minute or two.

"What d'ya want?" he snapped.

"Make sure you're okay," Rosie said, falling into step beside him.

"Why wouldn' I be?" he growled.

"'Cause people are stupid and don't know how to accept change," she said, folding her arms and glancing up at him. "For the record, if I get bit or I'm dying, please don't come after me with a pick axe..."

Daryl snorted softly. "Yeah...mighta been a bit much..."

"You think?" She walked quietly with him for a few more paces.

"If I get bit," he said, "or I'm dyin', you'll shoot me, too, righ'?"

"Sure I will," she said.

"I don' wanna be...one o' them," he said, scuffing his feet across the floor.

"D'you mind if I burn you too? Instead of burying you?" she asked.

Daryl stopped for a second and looked at her, squinting up at him with the sun in her eyes. "Don' see why not."

"Stops you coming back as a ghost, that's all," she said. Like it was just that simple to both believe in ghosts and know how to stop people coming back as them. "You'll burn me, right?"

Daryl nodded. "Tha's wha' ya wan', tha's wha' I'll do."

"Thanks," she said.

"Might need ta tell Glenn why everyone needs burnin'," he said, starting to walk again.

"I don't think he'll listen," Rosie sighed. "I get it. I really do. You wanna separate the people you knew, the people you love, from the monsters who took them but..."

"Monsters didn' take 'em," Daryl said, shaking his head. "Least not most of 'em. Walkers ain't monsters. Not really." He glanced down at her, seeing her surprise. "Well they ain't," he said, feeling a tad defensive.

"I know," she answered. "They'd have to be conscious for them to be monsters."

"Exactly," he said, now feeling out of place that her surprise wasn't down to the fact that she didn't agree, but more that she did.

She sighed as she stayed looking at him, her eyes holding his. They were so brown, like the colour of oak on a rainy day. Grains running through them and everything. Maybe that's why he was drawn to them as much as he was. She was all kinds of wild, but not in the man-made sense.

"Come on," she said, breaking whatever moment they were having. "We best get back."

Daryl nodded. "Yeah..."

As Daryl went back to swinging pick axes into the heads of the dead, Rosie went to sit with Andrea. He watched them from the corner of his eye. Andrea stilled as Rosie talked to her, and then she took the shot before her sister opened her eyes, holding onto Rosie's hand like it was a lifeline. He had no idea what the girl had said that made Andrea change her mind. No idea what words had come out of her mouth that made her pull the trigger before it was too late, but whatever she'd said, it worked. She held Andrea as she cried, blinking back her own tears as half the camp looked on in shock and surprise.

"What the hell?" Glenn muttered, coming to stand beside Daryl. "What'd she say to her?"

"Hell if I know," Daryl grunted.

"I don't get it," Glenn said, shaking his head. "Rick tried, Lori, even Dale couldn't get her to do it."

Daryl moved on to the next body, only to be stopped by Carol. As he looked down he realised who he was standing over.

"I'll do it," she said. "He's my husband."

Daryl watched her for second as she brought the pick axe down into Ed's skull once, twice, three times. Seemed mighty therapeutic if he had to guess. He looked back up at Glenn.

"Ya gotta burn all the bodies," he said without preamble.

"Huh?" Glenn said, frowning, momentarily struck by Carol's hidden aggression. Daryl didn't blame him, it was a sight to behold and he didn't begrudge the woman at all for letting it go. Hell, if his old man were amongst the dead, he'd have gone to town on the bastard.

"I said, ya gotta burn _all_ the bodies," Daryl said.

Glenn shook his head. "No. We bury our own. Otherwise we're no better than them."

"Who's them?" Daryl frowned.

"The mindless corpses who keep coming to feast on us," he huffed. "We aren't mindless."

"No, we ain't," Daryl said. "But, ya wanna 'em to stay _super_ dead, ya gotta burn 'em."

"What are you talking about?" Glenn said, looking more and more confused.

"Apparently, there's dead, there's walkin' dead, and then there's ghost dead," Daryl explained.

Glenn groaned. "Of course there fucking is."

"So we need ta be burnin' 'em _all_ ," he said.

Glenn ran frustrated hands over his face and shook his head. "It just doesn't sit right with me. Our people deserve more, deserve better...they weren't monsters, they deserve our respect."

"Ya know, the dead ain't doin' it on purpose," Daryl muttered, hard eyes flicking to Glenn's face and away again. "They weren't monsters neither. Least not all of 'em."

Glenn sighed. "I know." He shook his head and sighed again. "I know."

"I'm not sayin' we gotta pile 'em up with the rest of 'em," Daryl said. "I'm jus' sayin' we gotta burn 'em. Need ta do it quick too," he murmured. "Ain't gonna be long 'fore somethin' comes a callin' again.

Glenn shook his head, hands on his hips. "I really don't like it. And it's not just up to me..."

"You started it," Daryl said. "An' Annie's been right 'bout everythin' so far. Ya gonna ignore her now?"

"I'm not ignoring her," Glenn said defensively. 

"Sure as hell feels like it," Daryl snapped, turning away from Glenn irritably. 

He took the pick axe back from Carol and continued swinging and piling bodies up. He was frustrated and irritated and all kinds of angry and confused. Merle was still gone and he had no idea where he was or what happened to him. He also knew that if he finally ever caught up to him, Merle would just argue that it was Daryl's fault for not trying hard enough to find him. Daryl wasn't sure he could deny it either. There was a part of him that screamed for him to walk off and leave them all behind. Fuck 'em all and be done with it. If he left now he might even be able to find Merle, maybe. Pick up which way the truck headed and follow it out.

He looked up to see Rosie pass Andrea off to Dale and knew he wasn't leaving any time soon. The crazy girl was under his skin in ways he couldn't explain, even to himself. Whatever part of him that wanted to go find his brother was undeniably drowned out by an even bigger part of him that wanted to stay. Mostly for her. She wouldn't leave these people. She was clinging to her old life just as much as the rest of them. And her old life consisted of putting herself last to save strangers. He'd at least gleaned enough from her to know that.

He never had a life to begin with. Other than Merle, there was nothing to cling to, and Merle was enough of a bastard that he wasn't that upset or worried about letting him go. His anger had more to do with the fucking gall of the people around him. Like, just because Merle was a dick it didn't matter what happened to him. That Daryl should just be able to accept his loss because everyone else was better than Merle. They were better people. Which was was a fucking joke at the best of times. No one was better, everyone was worse.

Daryl helped load the dead people everyone recognised onto the truck bed, driving them up to the extra holes Shane and Rick had dug. Rosie climbed in the cab next to him, not saying a word. He stuck it in reverse and sped away up the hill to where Shane and Rick were digging a few more holes in the ground. Rest of the campers followed him up, all ready to put on a show and bury the poor fuckers. His talk with Glenn had clearly not had the desired affect. He jumped out of the cab and stalked around towards the two men, Rosie following but slowly. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was falling apart a little on the inside.

"I still think it's a mistake not burnin' these bodies," he said. "S'what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all, wasn' that the idea?"

"At first," Shane said, not really looking at him. He didn't miss the way his eyes darted over and across Rosie though.

"So what? Glenn gets all emotional, says it's not the thing ta do, we jus' follow him along?" Daryl muttered. "These people need ta know who the hell's in charge here. What the rules are."

"There are no rules," Rick huffed, not so much at Daryl as at the situation.

"Well, that's the problem," Lori said, stepping up and looking at them all. "We haven't had one minute to hold onto anything of our old selves." She took a breath, the moment seeming to get to her. "We need time to mourn and we need to bury our dead. It's what _people_ do."

Daryl scoffed as Lori looked directly at Rosie. "Hey," he called. "Stop lookin' at her like she don't belong here."

"She put my son in danger," Lori hissed. "She let us set up in the woods, knowing what was out there!"

"She busted her ass carving stupid symbols in the goddamn trees every time you lot moved further in!" Daryl snapped back. "I heard her arguin' with Shane every chance she got. Ya think anyone was gonna listen ta her talkin' 'bout monsters if they couldn' even listen when she was talkin' 'bout shit ya'd already seen?"

"She's not one of us," Lori said, glaring at her. "She didn't even try to explain. It's like she's from a different world or something..."

Daryl watched a few of the people behind her murmur their agreement. He was just about to open his mouth when Rosie decided to fight back herself.

"You need to wake the hell up," Rosie said, her lip trembling and her eyes shining with unshed tears. "It might feel like I'm not from this world, but I promise you, you're the one who stepped into mine. Not the other way around."

Lori gaped at her and shook her head. "This is hard enough as it is without you adding to it-"

"I never added shit!" Rosie barked, finally losing it. "Those _things_ that I know about, those _creatures_ in the dark. They've always been there. Always. I didn't bring them. And the dead didn't either."

Lori scoffed and shook her head. "You just don't get it."

"No," Rosie scoffed back. " _You_ don't." She sniffed and looked up at the sky for a second. "You look at me like I'm defective. Like I'm not normal. And you're not wrong, 'cause I'm not." She shrugged and Daryl felt his heart twist a little at how small and pained she looked. "But this _is_ my world. This is _my_ world. And I know things. Things that'll keep you alive if you just _listen_."

"Maybe we don't want to listen," Lori said, flinging her hands around now. "Maybe we've had enough of listening to people tell us what's good for us. Maybe we just want to bury our dead and mourn our people." She took a long breath and stared at Rosie. "Their deaths are not fair. They were unjust and unkind and I'm not expecting someone who's so comfortable with chaos and killing to understand that-"

Daryl almost flinched at how cold and hard Rosie got. Her tears dried up and her eyes turned to steel.

"Just bury your dead," Rosie said, setting her shoulders and walking past Lori and the rest of the camp. "I wasn't stopping you."

Andrea caught hold of her arm as she went past, wide eyes looking up at her. Daryl was close enough to catch the conversation, having instinctively followed her as she went.

"Will Amy come back? Will it be worse?" she whispered.

Rosie sighed. "No," she said, shaking her head. "You were with her when she went. You made it peaceful."

Andrea sniffed and nodded, letting Rosie's arm fall. She turned back to the group and braced herself for what was to come while Rosie slunk off into the woods, Daryl on her heels. 

"Ya okay?" Daryl muttered, falling into step beside her.

She shrugged.

"Don' gotta be," he said. "Jus' askin'."

Rosie nodded and he watched her quietly as they walked together.

"Where ya goin'?" he asked, trying to work out whether she was headed back to camp or not.

Rosie scoffed. "Don't know. I was starting to wonder if getting eaten by a wendigo might be better than all this shit but then I remembered Dean would drag my ass back from the dead just to yell at me..."

"I might not be able ta bring ya back from the dead, but I'll drag ya ass outta the woods 'fore ya get got," Daryl grumbled. "I ain't sufferin' these people alone."

Rosie chuckled softly, her gaze flicking to his and then back at the ground. Her smile was sweet and her eyes were alight with amusement, something he realised had been missing for too long.

"Okay, that's fair," she said, her steps not so loud or angry anymore. God, he loved it when he said the right thing.

They walked without saying anything for a while, just thinking and not being alone. Daryl watched the way the woods surrounded them. The way everything moved around them as they moved through it. If he was hunting, he wouldn't be moving. Not really. At least, not enough for anything to see that he was. It was about the only thing in his life he could brag about, if he wanted. His hunting skills were second to none. Before he'd even noticed, they were back at camp, everyone else having filtered down from the hillside. He supposed that Rick, Shane and Dale were checking for walkers. Something they did periodically now.

"What d'ya say ta Andrea? Get her ta take the shot?" he asked, still curious about that and not having had the chance to ask.

Rosie just shrugged and turned to look up at him. "I just told her what she needed to hear. That Amy wasn't a monster. That when she opened her eyes she'd still be Amy but she also wouldn't be at the same time. I just asked her if that was something Amy would have wanted. If maybe it would hurt Amy a little less, staying dead. That maybe, Andrea was holding on for her own sake, not her sister's."

Daryl stared at her for a second. "Sounds like yer words came from experience."

"They did."

"You been losin' people ta this sort o' shit yer whole life, ain't ya?" he said. It wasn't a question and she knew it wasn't. She hadn't masked the endless pain in her eyes or the heavy set of her shoulders.

"It's been a wild ride, sure," she said, a half-hearted scoff pushing past her lips. She scoffed again and shook her head. "And _God_ , am I so _fucking_ tired of it."

"Ya look it," he said, mostly without thinking but also because he didn't really know what else to say. She looked like she was about to start crying and he didn't know what to do with that.

She let out a twisted little chuckle, the tears actually falling now. "Thanks," she said, sniffing and smiling all at once.

Daryl took a hesitant step towards her, chewing on his lip and wondering what to do. She was furiously wiping her eyes but the tears hadn't stopped. He reached out to her and put a hand on her shoulder, which seemed both the right and wrong thing to do since she dissolved into tears right in front of him.

"Shit," he muttered. He heaved in a deep breath and took another step forwards, so he was completely in her space, tugging her towards him too and lazily looping his arms around her shoulders. He didn't know how to comfort her, not really, but he couldn't watch the girl fall apart without doing _something_. So he just did what he could. Did as much as he could without opening his mouth and making it worse.

Rosie wrapped her arms tightly around his, her hands coming up to grip the back of his shoulders as she buried her head in his chest. She shook with her sobs and all he could do was stand there and let her. He felt so out of control and so _useless_. He'd never been good at _feelings_ and shit. He'd sucked at it his whole life, mostly because his sorry excuse for an old man exploited any vulnerability he saw. Merle wasn't much better. Between the two of them, Daryl's skin was so thick it was a miracle anything could pierce it at all. He wondered lamely when Rosie had, all while he held her in his arms and tried not to breathe her in. Last thing he needed was to get used to this shit. Felt nice but wasn't for him.

"I'm gonna go and start packing my shit up," she said suddenly, sniffing and wiping her eyes again as she pulled away.

"Okay." He nodded, letting his arms fall from her shoulders and trying to get a good look at her face. He wanted to know where she was at and the best way to determine that was her eyes. He wanted to see her eyes. "Where ya goin'?"

Rosie breathed out a sweet little laugh and looked up at him. Her eyes practically took his fucking breath away and he had to mentally slap himself to concentrate on the words coming out of her mouth. They were warm and soft and so _alive_ again. And she was looking at him like he did that. Like he was the reason for it. "Nowhere without you, so don't panic."

Daryl scoffed. "I weren't panickin'," he said. "Jus' wonderin'..." _Now_ he was panicking. No one had ever wanted to stick with him before, like it was determined. Like they had a choice and they chose him. Hell, why would she choose _him_? As a friend, sure, he'd gotten used to that over the weeks, but...he got the impression that if he told her he was leaving, walking away from the group, she'd walk with him. No hesitation.

"Rick and Shane are gonna come back in a bit, and they'll tell everyone they're leaving," she said. "Shouldn't be a surprise since we can't stay here. But I've got nothing else to do so I might as well get ahead of the crowd."

"Ya think everyone's gon' follow 'em?" he asked. Stupid question really. He already knew the answer. Maybe if the two idiots weren't old friends, there'd be more of a divide. But until Shane's tentative sanity came to it's inevitable end, they'd stick together. Hell, Shane had been fucking Lori in the woods almost since the day they got there. Daryl would put money on Shane refusing to leave _her_ not Rick, and Lori was ever the faithful wife since her husband came back from the dead. Not that Daryl was judging. World ends and people do some crazy shit to make it through, especially when you think the people you love are dead and gone.

"Yeah, I think most everyone will follow them," Rosie said.

"Ya ain't gon' stick around 'til ya brothers come find ya then?"

Rosie shook her head. "I've got less chance of them finding me alive if I stay here. It's not safe anymore."

Daryl nodded. "Ya wanna stick with these lot or ya wanna split?"

She smiled at him as she chewed on her lip. "Stick with them, for now. But you'll be the first to know if I change my mind."

He nodded again and stomped off to pack his stuff too, feeling a light blush stain his cheeks and the tips of his ears start to burn. What the hell was he getting all flushed about? Crazy ass girl. She was driving him nuts. Like he couldn't help but give her little pieces of himself any time she asked. And it unnerved him that she never once used them against him. He'd never known someone like her. Someone that was so like him on the outside but so different on the inside.

Someone who used caring and kindness as a strength instead of a weakness. Someone who felt with everything they had instead of burying as much as they could inside. It made him think in ways he wasn't used to and he didn't know whether it was something he liked or something he hated. All he knew was that he didn't hate _her_ , and it had been a long time since he'd been around someone he didn't hate. Even a little bit. 

He spent the rest of the afternoon ignoring everyone, packing up his stuff and generally stomping around in blatant hostility. He was still pissed at everyone and a small part of him was pissed at Rosie, too. She'd just crashed into his life, at the end of the world, and made herself more important to him than just about anything. Without even trying. Hell, he was pretty sure she hadn't even realised that he'd follow her wherever she went. Stupid crazy girl.

He'd never been twisted up in knots over a woman before. Never. And it wasn't the squrimy, sexual kind neither. It wasn't like he was trying to hold back from kissing her or touching her. She was fine, sure, but unlike half the guys in this camp, Daryl's dick didn't control his goddamn brain. He could still fucking function without getting laid. No, he was twisted up about her because he couldn't work out why he felt so fucking connected to her. His momma had birthed him, given him fucking _life_ , and he never felt like he fit with her the way he fit with Rosie.

Fucking Rosie. She was all kinds of hard and soft at the same time and he had this overwhelming need to protect her, but this deep understanding that she didn't need protecting at all. At least, almost at all. She could handle herself but she'd die for these people and he wasn't sure the same could be said for them.

Afternoon turned to evening and this time the campfires were quiet, subdued. No one said a word. Everyone just listened to the sounds of the forest and the crackle of the wood in the fire. Only reason any of them were out there was for the warmth. Rick and Shane had made their little announcement and sure enough, everyone had nodded their little sheep heads and started gathering their shit together.

Daryl didn't care much for the warmth, he sat in his tent ignoring everyone, refusing to come out. Not that anyone had demanded his presence. He lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling, thinking about all the ways he was angry and confused and frustrated and wanted to tear this whole motherfucking campsite apart. He was torn from his furious musings by the tug of the zip on his tent door. He sat up, a knife in his hand, waiting for a face to emerge. It wasn't a walker, they didn't exactly have the fine motor skills to undo a zip. But it didn't mean it was someone he knew.

"Hey," Rosie whispered softly, just before she stuck her head through the gap she'd made. "Only me."

"Fuck's sake Annie," he growled. "I nearly gut ya..."

She shrugged. "Maybe, or maybe you nearly _tried_ to gut me. I was well aware you might pounce any moment."

Daryl scoffed, slipping the knife he had in his hand underneath his pillow. "Whatcha wan'?"

"Place to sleep for the night, or _not_ sleep, exactly," she said, slipping in and sitting across from him. It was a fucking small space with just two people in it.

Daryl raised an eyebrow and just stared at her.

She huffed and gave him a frustrated little slap on his shoulder, a small smile twitching at her lips. "Not like _that_."

He chuckled. "I know."

"Asshole," she muttered, dragging a rolled up sleeping bag into his tent and a pillow.

"You gonna wait fer my answer?" he asked, looking from her to the sleeping bag and back again.

"No," she said, her small smile now a full blown smirk.  
Daryl groaned. "S'a good job I don' give a shit wha' people think, ain't it..." he muttered.

Rosie giggled. She actually fucking giggled. He couldn't remember the last time he heard someone over the age of ten _giggle_. Was his life really that shit or was she really just that... _good_?

"So, wha' ya doin' if ya ain't sleepin'?" he asked, his eyes flicking over to her as she laid out the sleeping bag and pillow next to his. She was awful close and he found he didn't much mind it.

She collapsed onto her back, like he had, and stared at the ceiling, like he was. "I'm making sure that if I'm right, about the dead that we buried, no one dies," she said.

"Be there own fault," he answered. And it fucking would be. They didn't want to listen. They buried their dead. They should be the ones dealing with the consequences.

Rosie shrugged. "Doesn't matter," she said, playing with her fingers as they lay on her stomach. "Still my job."

"Why is it?" he huffed. "Why's it gotta be you?"

Rosie shrugged again. "'Cause it's all I've got," she said, her voice too sad for his liking.

"Ya got me." He wasn't sure where that had come from, only that the damn girl had put some kind of damn spell on him. He growled and huffed because he'd opened his fucking mouth, and then he growled and huffed over what came out of it. He didn't miss the way her head immediately turned to look at him. He felt her eyes as they ghosted over his face and he stopped breathing, waiting for what she was going to say to that.

"I know," she said softly. "You got me, too."

He couldn't look at her. He just nodded and started to breathe again. He couldn't face what might be in her eyes. He didn't want more than what they had and he was almost a bit terrified that she might. Instead he just answered her the same as she'd answered him. "I know."

She lay quietly for a moment and he twisted himself up some more, because of her, because of all the ways she'd wormed herself into his life and into his mind.

"Ya ain't gonna fall in in love with me or some shit, are ya?" he practically snarled at her. He wanted to know what was going on in her head.

She laughed softly at that. "No."

Daryl grunted.

"Daryl, I ever fall in love with you and I promise the only time you'll hear about it is on my deathbed," she said, looking straight at him and forcing his eyes to find hers. "And the day I'm dying is the day you promised to put a hole in my head."

He found his breath completely gone again and didn't really know what to do about it.

"I'mma hold ya ta that," he murmured.

Rosie scoffed, tipping her head to the ceiling again. "In my world, in _this_ world, falling in love is foolish. Admitting it is downright stupid."

"You ever been in love before?" he asked, not sure where the fuck that came from.

"Nah, just loving people is hard enough," she said. "I couldn't imagine how hard it would hurt, losing someone I was _in_ love with. What about you?"

Daryl chewed on his thumb and shook his head, back to not looking at her. "Nah, me neither. Always seemed like somethin' tha' makes ya weak, somethin' people can use against ya," he said.

Rosie sighed. "Man, your life was just as shit as mine, wasn't it?"

He scoffed at that, sniggered a little. "Takes one ta know one Annie."

Just as she opened her mouth to reply an almighty scream ripped through the camp grounds and sent a chill right up his spine.

"What the fuck now?!" he hissed, sitting upright and grabbing hold of his knife again.

Rosie shot forwards and out of the tent, leaving him to rush after her. He saw her snatch a couple of bags she'd left outside and run full pelt towards the campfire, where the screams had come from. There was more yelling and screaming now, more crying and gasping and people just stood around doing fucking nothing. A few shots rang out and more panicked cries. As he got to the campfire he realised why.

Ed's thick, fat, ice blue hand was wrapped around Carol's neck and no one could get him to let go. Another shot from Shane and it just went straight through him, like he wasn't even there. Which he wasn't. Because Rosie had been fucking right and now Ed was back from the dead, only this time they couldn't just stick a pick axe through his head and be done with it. Rosie swung her hand into him and he just disappeared like smoke. Carol started coughing and spluttering and everyone looked both relieved and completely terrified.

Rosie dropped the bag in the middle of the group with a bang, metal clanging around on the inside. She unzipped it and stood up.

"Everyone grab a stick."

"A stick? What's a stick gonna do?" Shane hissed.

"They're made of iron, ghosts don't like iron," she said.

"You didn't have a stick," he snapped, grabbing at one all the same.

"Iron bracelet," Rosie said, holding her arm up. "Saves time when you do this for a living."

She turned and went to walk away, grabbing the second bag and hoisting it up over her shoulder.

"Where're you going?" Rick called, looking just as terrified as everyone else.

"To fix it," she said, not turning around. "Just keep hitting him with the sticks. I got this, don't worry."

Daryl moved after her, catching up in three paces. He said nothing, he just walked beside her, knowing exactly where she was headed and what she had to do. He grabbed a stray shovel on the way, assuming she'd only packed enough for herself. There's no way she'd have expected help, but she didn't seem to be refusing his.

Once they reached the top of the hill where all the freshly filled in graves were littered about, she stopped. Daryl watched as she took a deep breath, dropping her bag on the ground and dragging her hands through her hair. The moonlight seemed to both bounce off her and sink into her all at the same time, like she was made from it. It made him want to stare and he didn't usually like pointing his eyes at someone for longer than he had to.

He tended to throw words at people over his shoulder or out the side of his face if he could. But Rosie was different. They had something different and he was starting realise that was okay. They were allowed to have it if they wanted it. It didn't have to be defined and they didn't have to explain it to anyone, hell they didn't even have to explain it to themselves, but it was theirs. A sense of companionship, if nothing else.

Merle would laugh at that one. _Companionship_. What a word to choose. But it seemed to fit in ways that friendship didn't. He and Rosie were friends, but they were also more. More to each other than anyone else was to them. At least in this campsite. Shit might change if her brothers ever caught up to her. Hell, shit might change if Merle ever caught up to him. Ain't like he was a fortune teller.

Rosie twisted her head to look at him over her shoulder, a grim little frown on her face. "You ready to dig him up again?"

He sighed but nodded. "Ain't gonna leave ya out here ta do it all by yerself," he said.

"It's gonna get real weird, real fast. He'll know what we're doing when we get close enough to his body," she said. "He'll come for us."

Daryl groaned. "Great. Pro'ly should'a picked up a damn iron stick..."

Rosie smirked at him. "What? You think this is my first rodeo?" She bent down and unzipped the bag, pulling out a shovel, some salt, some lighter fluid and matches and then a long, wrought-iron poker.

"Why'd ya wan' this if ya got the bracelet?" he frowned, taking it from her as she held it out to him.

Rosie shrugged. "Ghosts get real powerful when they get angry. Can throw you clear across a room, pin you against a wall, choke you without touching you...that kind of shit."

"Sounds fantastic," he muttered, holding tighter onto the metal pole.

"I'm not always in a position to use the bracelet, so sometimes the poker comes in handy," she said. "There's also a sawn-off shotgun in there, but we don't wanna use that unless we have to. It'll draw more walkers. The few rounds that went off earlier won't have helped much," she grumbled.

"The few rounds that went off earlier didn't touch it," Daryl pointed out.

"Yeah, 'cause they weren't loaded with rock salt," she explained. God, this girl was so at ease with this shit. Daryl was kind of envious really. The way she just knew stuff, knew how it all worked and fit together in a weirdly crazy way. It was kind of like him and his hunting, only bigger.

Rosie picked up the shovel and all the other paraphernalia, walking over to Ed's graveside. "Once he knows what we're doing, he'll leave Carol alone and come gunning for us. I'm hoping we'll have pretty much finished with him by then but if not...we gotta salt and burn his damn body, okay?"

"Got it," Daryl said, chewing on his lip as he looked at the fresh dirt covering the asshole.

"I mean it Daryl," Rosie said, in that tone that always seemed to draw his eyes to hers. "If he comes at me, or at you...only way to make him stop is to finish what we started. Okay?"

He nodded his head and stuck his shovel in the ground, driving the point home. He got it. This fight was different. Couldn't win it by losing his head and going after a ghost just 'cause the ghost was going after the girl.

Rosie seemed to accept that he'd understood her since she shut up and started digging too. It didn't take too long. The holes weren't all that deep. Six foot, his ass. These bodies were prime bait for scavengers and parasites, insects looking for a nice new incubator. He jumped down into the hole to brush the rest of the dirt off Ed's corpse, so it would light up nice and proper, when the bastard appeared out of nowhere.

He flung Daryl backwards, out of the hole and across the mud and dirt and grass. As he sat up, completely winded, he saw the apparition of the asshole reach down and grip Rosie around the throat, making sure to pin her arm with the bracelet on it to the ground. Fucker obviously learnt his lesson the first time.

Daryl coughed and spluttered as he got to his feet, reminding himself about what Rosie had said. Finish the job. Hell, at least while the idiot was distracted with her he might be able to torch him. He flung himself at the salt, lighter fluid and matches, his hands trembling as he poured both the salt and gas across the body. He couldn't take his eyes off Rosie and how blue she was starting to go herself. He struck the match in one go and watched as Ed burnt up the minute the flames touched his corpse.

Daryl didn't really care about any of that. He didn't even see the rest of the camp had emerged onto the hill top. He just ran for Rosie as she coughed and gasped and spluttered for air, much like he had only worse.

"Hey, hey," he called softly, putting one hand on her knee and the other on her shoulder. "Ya good?"

She nodded. "I'm good," she wheezed.

He tipped her head back slightly to see a bruise the shape of a handprint start to form on her skin.

"I'm good Daryl," she said, her fingers wrapping around his wrist and pulling his hand away from her. "I'm good." She forced his eyes to hers and he could do nothing but nod. Wasn't the first she'd been through, probably wasn't the last neither. Least that's what she was trying to say without saying anything.

"What _was_ that?" Lori hissed, looking wildly around, her eyes flicking to Rosie every few seconds.

"A ghost," she said, her voice barely audible.

"I got that," she snapped. "I don't understand why it appeared. Why you _knew_ it would."

"I didn't _know_ ," Rosie said. "I made an educated guess based on my extensive knowledge of the subject."

"How'd you know none of the others will come after us?!" Lori asked. "How d'you know that no one else is coming back?"

"I don't, but most ghosts are either violent before their death or have suffered a violent death," Rosie said, her voice sounding more pained the longer she spoke. 

"Oh, and the rest of them didn't?" Lori scoffed. Daryl stood up and started pacing a little ways behind Rosie. It was either pace or lose his fucking temper.

"The rest of them weren't alone," Rosie argued. "And the rest of them didn't beat the ever-living shit out of their wives." She winced at Carol. "Sorry..."

Carol shook her head, her eyes set on the floor. It wasn't fair, putting her life into such small and simplistic words. No matter what anyone thought, it was _her_ life. Daryl could sympathise with that. He'd had enough strangers put his own life into words that fit but didn't really grasp the entirety of the situation. He got it. He understood why Rosie had said it that way. Lori seemed to be gunning for her hard, like it was her fault there was worse out there than walkers. She needed to be blunt and tell it to her in a way that she'd find hard to argue with...she just hadn't thought the words through before they left her mouth.

Lori huffed and puffed a few times, turning on the spot. "Well, what do we do now?" Her eyes seemed to land on Rosie and that's about when Daryl lost it.

"So yer gonna actually listen ta her now? Huh?" he snapped. "Damn girl came out here and nearly died 'cause the lotta ya couldn't _stand_ ta listen ta her."

"Daryl," Rosie whispered, hauling herself up onto her feet. "I'm fine-"

"And ya damn near weren't," he raged. "And now they're all lookin' at ya like ya got all the answers."

"Because I have," Rosie said, still whispering. He could barely make her voice out it was that sore. "I've been doing this shit for eight years, no one listens first time round. Or second time round, and sometimes they're still pig-igortant third time, too. It's not their fault that this is hard."

Daryl scoffed. He was amazed at how quickly she'd jumped to their defense. He looked at them all stood behind her, stared them down. "Few hours ago y'all were tellin' her ta go do one-"

"Daryl," Rosie hissed.

"I listened first time," he said, holding her gaze. "Might be your job ta put up with this shit but it ain't mine."

"No, Daryl's right, again," Rick said with a sigh. "We didn't listen and you almost died saving our lives. It should be up to you what we do now."

Rosie shrugged. "Go back to bed, scream if something gets you."

"Scream if something gets you? That's it?" Lori frowned, her hard eyes back on Rosie.

"That's all I've got," she said, turning back to face the woman.

Lori scoffed and shook her head, clearly bewildered by Rosie and the whole situation. "So what? There's absolutely nothing we can do?"

"Take the sticks I gave you," she croaked. "I'd suggest salt circles but out in the open they won't stay unbroken."

"Great, that's just...great," Lori muttered. "I don't know how we're all expected to sleep tonight..."

"So don'," Daryl said. He was out of fucks to give at this point. "Stay awake all night, toss and turn the whole way through...but quit tellin' her ta give it ta ya straight and then complainin' when she does!"

Rosie picked up her stuff and threw it back in her bag, zipping it up and dropping it at his feet. She held the iron poker out to him and he took it, watching her curiously. "Walk me back," she whispered.

"Your not gonna dig them all up?" Glenn asked, a little horrified.

"No point unless any more rise from the dead," Rosie said. "There's too many of them..."

Glenn nodded. "I should have listened. I'm sorry."

Rosie touched his arm and squeezed it gently, offering him a small smile. Daryl wasn't sure whether he was more pissed with Glenn than the others or not. The guy was well aware that Rosie knew her stuff and yet he was still adamant that the dead went in the ground. He was getting tired of being the only one in the damn group not clinging on to something. The world was what it was now, and they all needed to start adjusting. Fast. He grabbed the bag at his feet and stormed off down the hill leaving Rosie and the rest of them to trail their way after him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if anyone's noticed, and it's not really relevant to the story, but I've been naming the chapters after song titles that fit the chapter as a whole. The entire fic is named after an Ozzy Osbourne song and I'm starting to feel that there's a certain element of song-fic to this considering how many I've used even in just this first part! 😆 Again, it's of no relevance but figured some of you might want to know where the titles are coming from!


	5. Made of Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosie deals with the aftermath of the ghost attack before walking into something so much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: past abuse is mentioned/revisited. Please be aware for any triggers.

Rosie sighed as she followed after Daryl, her throat sore and her neck aching. It felt like she had a golf ball rammed down it right now, and all she wanted was to lay down with a nice cold cloth against her skin. She was lucky the jackass hadn't crushed her windpipe. If Daryl been a few seconds later, sending his ass packing, she might not have made it. She had a feeling he'd work that out for himself tomorrow when he saw the bruise on her neck in the light of day.

She trod along the dirt track that led back to the campsite, Daryl not too far in front of her and the rest of them not that far behind. She could tell he was listening out for her. That if she stopped or got in some kind of trouble, he'd also stop and save her. She was glad for the odd little conversation they'd had just before all this kicked off. Glad they'd drawn their lines in the ground and knew where they stood.

She wasn't looking for more than a friend. A good friend, but a friend nonetheless. Someone who'd stand with her and be there for her no matter what. Someone she knew she could always choose and would always choose her, too. That was Daryl. They'd wade through the thick of this shit together until one of them went under, or both of them did.

She didn't feel that with any of the others.   
It was strange to think it was the surly redneck that had the emotional capacity to understand where the hell she was coming from and where the hell she wanted to go. He'd accepted her, crazy world and all. He _had_ listened first time. He never questioned how or why she knew what she did, just trusted that she knew it.

He was pissed because she was so forgiving, but she couldn't help it. She'd seen bad people and these lot weren't bad. She couldn't leave them to die because she wanted to deliver something as petty as an 'I told you so'. She supposed Daryl hadn't had the luxury of being able to forgive all that much. He was so hard on the outside, like he lived inside a damn shell. Any small vulnerability he showed was accompanied by an intense amount of nervous and twitchy energy, like he was ready to bite back if it was met with anything more than acceptance.

When he'd blurted out that she had _him_ , in all this, at the middle of the shitstorm that was now life, she'd had to take a breath and make sure she'd heard him right. She was more in tune with Daryl fucking Dixon than she could ever remember being with anybody. She was also pretty sure that if she ever told him that, she could also wave goodbye, since he'd bolt faster than a rabbit on the run.

She hadn't lied. She wasn't in love with the man. That _would_ be ridiculous. She hadn't known him long enough for that and as far as she was concerned, now was not the time to start entertaining stupid romantic notions such as falling in love. She didn't need to fall into the arms of anyone to feel like she could keep going. And as far as sex was concerned, she was one of the best lays she'd ever had, so when it came to that kind of relief, she wasn't too worried. She could take care of herself. Sex wasn't something she liked to trust people with anyway.

She sighed as she reached the tent. His tent. She was most likely going to spend the entire night being ignored but it beat skulking back to her car and letting him feel like she'd been the one in the wrong.

"Hey," Shane called softly, tipping his head at her as he walked over. "Probably best to leave him for the night. Let him calm down."

"Shane, I'm sharing his tent," Rosie said flatly, her throat hurting every time she had to use her voice.

"Why?" Shane asked, frowning at her. He looked more than pissed and she fought the urge to laugh in his face or lose her temper with him.

"I packed up earlier, didn't wannna sleep in my car," she croaked.

"So why didn't you ask to share with Glenn, or with me?" He stared her down. "Hell, Dale's probably got room in the RV..."

Rosie just shrugged.

"I'm just worried about you tis all," Shane murmured. "He ain't exactly stable."

Rosie scoffed and rolled her eyes. "What? And the rest of you are?"

Shane growled. "You're young-"

"She ghosted a ghost after the lotta ya chose ta ignore what ya knew was sound advice," Daryl called from inside the tent. "I think she's earned the right ta sleep wherever she wants."

Rosie bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from laughing, looking up at Shane with innocent eyes.

"I'm just looking out for her," Shane called back.

"Seems ta me, she don' need it and she ain't asked for it," Daryl said, still inside the tent.

"Shane, I'm fine, and now I'm going to bed," she said, pushing the words past the pain.

Shane shook his head. "I think you should come sleep in my tent, I don't think-"

"Night Shane," she said, stepping past him and crawling into Daryl's tent.

Daryl didn't say a word to her as she climbed across her sleeping bag and then practically collapsed into an exhausted heap on top of it. 

  
"Y'okay?" he asked softly, after listening to Shane's footsteps walk away. 

Rosie just hummed and nodded, her face buried in her pillow. 

"Y'ain't stayin' awake all night, I can tell ya that much," he muttered. 

"Got to..." she whispered.

He groaned. "Anybody ever tell ya you gotta saviour complex?" 

She snickered at that, twisting her head so she could peak an eye out at him. She nodded again. 

"I'll stay up for a bit, listen out," he said.

She frowned at him. If talking didn't hurt so much she'd have accompanied it with a question. As it was, Daryl seemed to understand her fine without her voice. 

He shrugged. "Don' much care for 'em, but...I got ya." 

She smiled softly. 

"Don' go gettin' ideas," he huffed. "I ain't bein' nice or nothin', I jus' wanna keep ya around so's we don' die..."

She gave him a flat and completely unconvinced look.

"Shut up," he muttered, laying on his back and looking up at the roof of the tent. 

Rosie watched him as she fell asleep. The rise and fall of his chest, the stillness of his body, the way his eyes remained trained on the ceiling and refused to look anywhere else. All her energy seemed to be gone, whatever was left slowly seeping out of her and into the floor. She supposed she was due a couple of hours. Wouldn't hurt to close her eyes for a bit, it wasn't like her body would let her sleep for more than a few anyway.

She hadn't even realised she'd fallen asleep until she was being shaken awake by Daryl. She jerked back and sat bolt up right, grabbing for whatever weapon she could find. Her throat was raw and hurt like hell, and she wiped the sleep out of her eyes, looking around wildly.

"Woah woah woah!" he called, putting firm hands on her knees. "Nothin's goin' on, 'kay? I's jus' tellin' ya it's near time ta leave..."

Rosie frowned at him, looking around the tent and suddenly realising sunlight was streaming in through the fabric. She went to open her mouth to talk but it hurt too much.

She huffed to herself and raked a hand through her hair, her eyes finding Daryl's again. 'How long?' she mouthed. 'Was I out?' she clarified, just in case he hadn't understood.

"Dunno," he muttered. "Maybe six hours? Why?"

Rosie looked at him with wide eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she managed to get _six hours_ sleep! And fuck if it wasn't disorienting. She frowned at him.

"Wha'? Ya didn' expect me ta wake ya up, did ya?" he said, now frowning at her. 

She shook her head. She just didn't expect to sleep so long. "I..." she squeezed out. The night had not been kind on the swelling or bruising. She was lucky she could breathe, and she knew it. "Two hours...all I get...usually."

Daryl put a finger under her chin and pushed her head up, hissing as soon as he saw how bad it was. He sat back, looking angrily at her. 

"Ya really were nearly dead, weren't ya," he muttered. It wasn't a question. 

She shrugged and looked at the floor, twisting her fingers in her lap. After a moment she slowly raised her eyes to his, finding him still glowering at her. 

"Next time they don' listen ta ya, they can damn well pay the price," he said. 

Rosie gave him a forlorn look and just about croaked out his name only to have him shake his head at her. 

"Don' tell me I don' understand," he said. "I understand enough. You don' die for "em. Least not 'til they'd die fer you."

Rosie shook her head softly. 'I can't promise that,' she mouthed. 

"Then I can't promise not ta ditch 'em if ya do," he said, turning and crawling out of the tent. 

Rosie sighed, twisting her fingers together again and looking around the tiny space. Daryl just didn't get it. Her whole life was about saving people and hunting things. It was the only thing that kept her sane. Her, Sam and Dean...making the sacrificial play was like their signature move.

They were expendable. They had to be. Otherwise what the hell was the point in the shit they'd been through. She couldn't just flip a switch and decide that _she_ was important. It didn't work like that. She had a job to do and she'd do it, no matter the consequences. 

She crawled out of the tent a few minutes later, her sleeping bag and pillow in hand. Shane was scowling at her from across camp and she got a few raised eyebrows mostly from Lori and Jacqui. She didn't much care. If they couldn't keep their minds out of the gutter just 'cause she'd shared sleeping space with a friend, that was their problem, not hers.

She kept her head low, using her hair to hide most of her bruises from the night before. Usually she'd tie it up so it was out of the way, harder to grab, but it worked really well as a cover when she needed it. She'd used the same trick with Dean when a hunt had gone a bit more south than she wanted him to know. One of the few reasons why she hadn't cut it.

Once she was out of the tent, Daryl started disassemling it, huffing and grunting the whole time. She wondered over to her car and threw her stuff in the backseat, making sure she had everything. Glenn ambled on over to her, leaning on her open window and givinga long look. 

"You and Daryl, huh?" he said, both eyebrows raised.

Rosie shook her head. "Don't start," she whispered. 

"Come on, you gonna tell me there's nothing going on there?" Glenn scoffed. "The dude has been strung out since last night. I know you got hurt, and I'm really sorry about that Rosie..." He took a moment to shoot her a sincere look and she knew he meant it. "But...you'd think you almost died. Like _really_ died."

Rosie bit her lip, and sighed. As much as she didn't want to guilt trip Glenn, it wasn't fair for the rest of the camp to assume Daryl was just overreacting and needlessly lashing out. She pulled her hair back from her neck so Glenn could see the black and purple bruise across her skin. It was in the perfect shape of a handprint, the outline still red and raw and angry, burst blood vessels littering her skin all around it. 

"Fucking hell Rosie," Glenn whispered, his whole jaw dropping as he stepped back from the car a little bit. " _Fucking hell_..."

Rosie shot him a wry smile and shrugged. 

"No wonder Daryl lost it..." he murmured. 

Rosie shook her head. "We...aren't...a thing..." she whispered. 

Glenn laughed, coming back to rest on her open window. "You might not be holding hands or bumping uglies, but you're definitely _a thing_ Rosie."

Rosie scrunched her nose up and scowled at him. "Just friends," she whispered. 

"I'm sorry," Glenn said, looking at her forlornly again. "I'm so sorry. I should have listened to you. I should have-"

Rosie cut him off, placing a hand on his arm. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, sure, you're fine," he said, sarcasm lacing his words as he rolled his eyes. "You can barely speak and it looks like you're lucky you can even _breathe_ but sure, you're fine."

She scowled at him again. 

"I feel like you're trying to tell me something, but I just don't know what it is," he said. 

"She's tryin' ta tell ya it ain't _her_ ya should be worried about," Daryl growled, stomping up to them.

Rosie sighed and then groaned, leaning forwards on the steering wheel. Damn it. Not only was Daryl right but she was pretty sure that Glenn was about to take that as proof he was right too. About her and Daryl. 

"Why should I be worried about you?" Glenn asked with a frown. 

"Why didn' ya listen ta her?" Daryl snapped, pointing at Rosie as he spoke. "She almost died 'cause you were too busy bein' fuckin' sentimental!"

"I know, okay! I know!" Glenn held his hands up and he turned to face Daryl. "I told her I'm sorry, and I really am. I feel terrible."

"Sorry ain't good enough," Daryl hissed.

Rosie got out of her car and stood between them, folding her arms and staring down at Daryl.

"It ain't," he said, scowling at her. 

" _My_ choice," she bit out. 

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. "Yeah, an' I get the impression it'll be your choice ta forgive 'em every five fuckin' minutes too, huh?"

Rosie shrugged. 

"Girl I do _not_ get you!" he raged.

She gave him a flat sort of look, twirling her finger around next to her ear. 

Daryl scoffed, giving her a wry and somewhat exasperated twitch of his lips. "All kinds of crazy, yeah, I know." 

Glenn snickered. "If that's you not getting her...wow."

"Shut up." Daryl glared at him. " _She_ mighta forgiven ya, _I_ ain't."

Glenn rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He waved at Rosie as he walked back down the hill and into camp. 

Rosie stood looking up at Daryl. 'Thanks,' she mouthed. 

"Fer what?" he asked. 

'Forgiving me,' she said. 

Daryl turned and walked off after Glenn without so much as a backward glance. She figured as much. She'd got used to the fact that he often just stomped off when he didn't know what to say. 

Not too long later and everyone was packed up and ready to go. Morales and his family had decided to split and it didn't really surprise her much. He wasn't the blind faith kind, which everyone else seemed to be.

Rosie'd had a few tentative looks and furtive glances throughout the morning, people eyeing her up and trying to catch a glimpse of the damage Glenn had obviously told them about. She got so sick of it, she'd ended up tying her hair back again so they could all see it. They got real quiet after that. 

She'd helped Daryl get Merle's hick bike on the back of his truck, eyeing the obscene decals all over it with obvious distaste. He'd merely grunted at her something about his brother pissing people off on purpose and left it at that. If she'd had her voice, she probably would have said something about scratching them off, but he was already wound up enough without antagonizing him. 

She put the key in her car and listened to the engine turn over, purring a little loudly but just the right way. She loved her car. It was like the sweet to her sour most days. All worn and busted on the outside but ran like a dream, and it always made her smile to sit behind the wheel and drive it, despite the complete lack of power steering or AC.

Dean had told her it needed a name, like Baby. But Baby was a '67 chevy impala and this, well this was a crapped out 1990 Ford Escort Pony, which by all accounts should not work _at all,_ let alone as well as it did for her. She'd found it in Bobby's scrapyard and it was like finding her very own Herbie. It started first time and it kept starting and she loved it. She had a connection with it, and she could tell it was happy without a name.

She watched as everyone else started pulling out of the campsite, on the road again, headed for the CDC. That was a laugh and ahalf in itself. She was pretty sure they were not going to find whatever it was the rest of them were all hoping for. She wished there was some magic cure that stopped the dead from rising, but the dead had been rising for a long time before now and she hadn't found a cure yet. Sure, ghost-dead was a little less hungry but still...in her experience dead things rarely stayed dead. 

She followed them all out onto the road, seeing the painted screen of the dodge charger with Morgan's name on it, and Sam and Dean's. She'd tried to send a message over the phone, but she had no idea if it had got through or not, so she was just going to have to hope. It wasn't something she did often. In a long line of bad experiences, life had taught her that hope was mostly futile, but right now, it was all she had left. So she hoped. 

They went on down the road a little while and she opened the window to let the breeze blow through the car. It was nice. If she let her mind wander, it was almost like before, when she'd drive off on a case and just meander back, window open, not a care in the world. Driving was like flying but on wheels. She loved it. Found it soothing, like nothing could get you on the road. Like there was nothing to do and nowhere to go for such a long time that you could rest. Not sleep, obviously, just rest. Take a break from life and all the shit that goes with it. Nothing you could do about it while you were in between the stops. 

She took a deep breath as their convoy started slowing to a stop, smoke coming out of the RV. She groaned and rested her head back on the seat. This was all they needed. She watched as a few of them all got out of their cars and trucks and came to see what was up. Rosie would bet it was the radiator hose. Dale had been on about trying to find a fix for the poor thing and she'd picked up enough from Dean to know that duct tape only lasts so long. She waited in the car as they all discussed the finer points of apocalyptic car repairs. She groaned even harder when Shane started walking towards her car. 

"Radiator hose on the RV's gone," he said as he reached the window. "Jim's not looking too good either."

Rosie nodded. "Figures," she croaked.

"Me and T-dog are gonna scout up ahead, I think there's a gas station further along, see what we can find," he said. 

"Stay safe," she whispered. Talking still hurt but it was beginning to ease ever so slightly.

"You too." His eyes swept across her face and down her neck. She saw him wince at the bruise but she didn't care. She was too tired to feel sorry that she'd nearly lost that fight. 

She nodded again and waited for Shane to walk off but he didn't. "You wanna come with us? Look for some parts?"

Rosie shook her head, shooting him a small smile. "Thanks though..."

"Okay," he said. "You just look like you coulda used a break."

Rosie scoffed softly, but there were too many words to say and her throat already hurt enough from the few she'd used. 

"I know. There ain't much of a break to have right now," Shane said with a sigh. "But we gotta take what we can get."

She nodded and shot him a rueful kind of smile for understanding. 'Thanks,' she mouthed. He tipped his head and was gone. 

She leant back in her seat and closed her eyes for a minute. She'd seen Rick climb into the RV, to check on Jim no doubt. A few people were gathered around outside. She had no real interest in being a part of whatever discussion they were currently having. 

She took a few soft breaths, just listening to the sounds of the world around her. The breeze was still blowing every once in a while, and there was the odd chirp of a bird and the rustle of some leaves. The murmuring of the distant conversation floated over to her occasionally but never loud enough for her to pick up on a word. After what must have been about half an hour, she heard footsteps coming towards her. She pried her eyes open, not having been asleep anyway, to see Shane approaching her window again. 

"RV's patched up again, for now," he said.

Rosie nodded. 

"Uh...Jim's not doing so good," he said, shifting a little uncomfortably. "Apparently, we're leaving him here..."

Rosie frowned. She put together the pieces quickly. Jim wanted to be left. There was no way any of them would just leave him at the side of the road. Hell, if it came to finding someone bold enough to pull the trigger, they'd have just turned to Daryl. She nodded at Shane. 

"I'm gonna help Rick get him out of the camper," he said. "You wanna come say goodbye, now's your chance." He walked back off to where everyone else was gathered and Rosie sighed. 

Goodbye. It was always fucking goodbye eventually. It wasn't so much that she hated goodbyes, it was more that she was damn tired of them. She opened her car door and heaved herself up from the seat, her bones aching and her throat still burning.

She watched as Rick and Shane helped Jim to the side of the road and slumped him up against a tree. She walked on over, the rest of the group crowding around.

"Hey look, another tree," he chuckled. 

"Hey Jim," Shane said. "You know it doesn't need to be this."

Jim shook his head ever so slightly. "No, it's good. The breeze feels nice."

"Okay, alright," Shane muttered. He tipped his head at the dying man and stepped back.

Jacqui moved forward, sniffling and looking so forlornly at him. "Just close your eyes sweetie, don't fight," she said, leaning forwards and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. Rosie felt an awful pang for the woman as she walked away, her tears falling thick and hard down her face. 

Rick stepped up and offered Jim a gun as Rosie moved further up the queue, folding her arms and shifting uneasily on her feet. 

"Jim, do you want this?" Rick asked, holding the gun out to him. 

"No," Jim said, a small but grateful smile on his face. "You'll need it. I'm okay. I'm okay."

Rosie felt her heart squeeze, watching the last few moments of Jim's life eek out the way they were. He was actually a pretty interesting guy. She'd spent a good few hours chatting easily with him when he was tied to the tree. 

"Oh, hey," Dale said, crouching in front of him, kind eyes meeting Jim's. "Thanks for, uh, for fighting for us." He nodded a few times and looked back up at Jim. 

"Okay," Jim murmured, nodding back as best he could. 

Everyone else seemed to nod or wave or tip their heads at him as they all turned to leave. Daryl stopped just short of him, chewing on his lip and giving the man one short but sweet nod before he, too, backed off.

Rosie felt him watching her as she walked up to Jim and dropped to one knee in front of him. 

"Rosie," he said. 

"Jim," she whispered. 

He smiled weakly. "You can't stay with me this time," he said. 

She shook her head, the tiniest smile on her lips. 

"Thanks," he said. "For...everything."

She looked up at him, her eyes glazed over. This was a lot harder than she thought it was gonna be. She nodded and reached out, resting a hand on his knee so he'd meet her eyes again.

"You can die easy, Jim," she whispered. 

Jim chuckled. "Hear the angels marchin'," he murmured. 

"Hear they come," she sang softly. "Bye Jim."

"Bye Rosie," he said. 

She squeezed his knee and stood up, walking back to the road with Daryl, trying not to cry. 

"Ya really like speakin' through song, dontcha," he muttered, not really asking a question. 

Rosie shrugged. 

"Yeah, s'ppose it's kinda easy when the words fit," he mumbled. 

She nodded. She also briefly wondered if he'd gained the power of telepathy over the last twenty four hours. 

Led Zepplin, 'In my time of dying' was the song. It was one of the things she'd talked about with Jim. They had similar musical tastes and it was nice to converse and sing a few rounds of songs that someone else knew the words to. 

"You gotta favourite?" Daryl asked, squinting at her.

Rosie shrugged again. It was too many words to put together, so she just looked at Daryl instead and sort of tipped her head.

The truth of it was, she didn't have a favourite. What she loved was that sometimes you could convey a whole song in just one line. All the feeling wrapped up in just a few simple words. 

"Helps, when words fail," she murmured, her voice hoarse and still sore. God it was killing her, not being able to use it. 

Daryl scoffed. "Ya do better 'an me."

Rosie chewed on her lip and shook her head as he followed her back to her car. Daryl was actually pretty eloquent with words. He had a way of putting things that was difficult to argue with and made everything so much clearer than it had been. He just didn't like to talk much about anything that wasn't superficial shit. 

"Your words are fine," she muttered, squeezing them passed the pain and yanking her door open. "You just don't like to use them."

"I talk," he said, almost a little defensively. 

Rosie nodded and scrunched her face up, the sun getting in her eyes as she faced him. "You don't talk _heavy_ though."

Daryl shrugged. "Neither do you. Heavy's hard when it's not on ya shoulders, but draggin' ya down instead."

Rosie chuckled softly and gave him a pointed sort of look.

Daryl shoved her arm gently and huffed. "Shut up."

She slunk back into her car and started her up again. The Pony rumbled back to life and she shifted it into gear, watching Daryl sprint back to his truck. A few minutes later, they were all moving again, on towards the CDC, leaving Jim sat up against a tree. 

Rosie hated it. Wished they could have put a bullet in his brain. But that's not what Jim wanted. And yeah, the planet was covered in walkers, so what was one more. It wasn't like they were gonna save a whole host of people knocking Jim off when they'd left him so far from anyone, anyway. She ignored the words in her head, taunting her that she hadn't done the job. She hadn't done what was just or right. It wasn't up to her this time. The world wasn't like it used to be. Instead, she just continued following the rest of the convoy to their next dead-end destination. 

It didn't take as long as she thought it would before they were rolling right up to the CDC. It was a sight to behold, that was for sure. The ground was littered with corpses and flies were buzzing everywhere. It was so thick with the insects, they were almost like fog. Rosie reached around to the grab bag she had in the backseat of her car. She had an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach, like they were about to walk into a shitstorm and none of them knew it.

Rosie was finely tuned to pick up on shitstorm vibes, so along with the knife she'd been carrying and the small gun, she also grabbed the angel blade Cas had gifted her a few years ago. She stowed it in a handmade sheath at the small of her back, nice and easy to grab but perfectly concealed all at once. 

She took a deep breath and climbed out of the car, following the group as they all made for the front door of the building as quietly as they could. Shane murmured to them all while a few of the others were shushing to each other and the children, mostly for comfort's sake than to keep quiet. Glenn was clearly horrified by the mass grave they were walking through, his face all pale and twisted up. He didn't throw up though, Rosie had to give him that. He had a strong stomach at the very least. 

Rosie knew it wasn't going to be that easy. She fucking _knew_ shit was going to go down. Shane pounded on the shuttered doors, making the whole thing shake so hard you'd have been able to hear it a mile away. Just as T-dog decided to lose all hope and Rick wanted to argue with him, Daryl spotted walkers. Because of course he fucking would.

"Ya led us into a graveyard!" Daryl barked at Rick, shooting one of the walkers straight between the eyes. 

"He made a call!" Shane snapped, also turning to fire a few shots. 

"It was the wrong damn call!" Daryl growled, another bolt flying for the head of a walker. 

"Just shut up! You hear?!" Shane cried, pacing around and looking for more walkers. "Shut up! Shut up!" He was getting panicked, that much was clear. "Rick, this is a dead end." He also wasn't wrong, Rosie couldn't argue with that. 

"Where are we gonna go?" Jacqui was practically wailing. 

"Do you hear me?" Shane called to Rick who seemed more interested in the shutter doors than anyone else. "No blame man..."

"He's right," Lori murmured, pleading with her husband. "We can't be here this close to the city after dark!" she hissed. 

"Fort Benning, Rick," Shane called again. "Still an option..."

"On what?" Andrea scoffed. "No food? No fuel? That's a hundred miles!"

"Hundred and twenty five, I checked the map," Glenn said grimly. 

Rosie plunged her knife in the side of another walker's head. They needed to decide what the hell they were going to do because in a minute, their only choice was gonna be death. 

"Forget Fort Benning!" Lori huffed. "We need answers tonight, now!"

Rosie could begrudgingly admit that Lori also wasn't wrong. Fort Benning was out of the question tonight. They needed shelter at the very least, not a long drive across country.

"We'll think of something," Rick muttered, having finally joined the conversation. 

"Come on, let's go" Shane said, taking another walker down. "Let's get out of here. Let's go. Please."

Everyone started to listen, started to move back. Rosie watched as Rick became fixated on the fucking door again and the camera above it. 

"Alright everybody," Shane said. "Back to the cars. Let's go. Move."

"The camera...it moved," Rick said, looking up at it in awe. 

"You imagined it," Shane snapped, starting to lose his already very thin patience. 

"It moved," Rick insisted. "It moved!"

"Rick just listen to me!" Shane cried. They were slowly being surrounded by more and more walkers. "Its an automated device. Its gears, okay? They're just winding down. Now come on!"

As Rick, Shane and Lori started arguing amongst themselves, Daryl's strangled cry caught Rosie's attention. 

"What the hell?!" He looked wildly around, shoving at a walker with a bolt stuck straight out of its head. "It didn't die! _It didn't die!_ What the hell?!"

He shoved it hard enough for it to stumble and fall on the floor. Rosie watched it rise, its eyes glowing briefly a bright, white blue. Her blood ran cold. Suddenly, Glenn was calling out the same anguished words, another relentless walker gnashing its teeth at him despite the fact that Glenn's knife was buried in its head. Angel-walkers. That was all they needed. 

She heard Rick slam his fists on the shutter doors and Shane start yelling at everyone to get back to the cars, but she'd pulled the angel blade from her back and had already started moving towards the unstoppable dead.

She grabbed hold of the snarling, snapping geek that was still trying to take a chunk out of Glenn, thrusting the blade through the back of it's skull. Glenn's eyes blew wider than they already were when the angel-walker's eyes shone blue before it collapsed in a heap at Rosie's feet, burning angel wings into the ground. 

She rounded on the next one, the one Daryl hadn't managed to take down. It fell fast and more wings smoldered on the concrete beneath her feet. She could feel eyes on her, feel the group watching her as she took out walker after walker with her magic knife. Suddenly, the shutter doors were creaking, the CDC doors were opening and the whole group was bathed in light. 

It hadn't forgone Rosie's notice that the doors had only started to open after she'd downed the two extra-special undead. She didn't have much of a choice whether to follow the rest of the group or not, all of which had fled for the safety of the stupid government facility. She heard Daryl call her name and felt her feet moving of their own accord, walking into the CDC straight after him. 

"Daryl, you cover the back," Shane told him, as the group walked through the doors. 

"Hello?" Rick called, looking around for whoever should have been inside. "Hello?"

Dale looked at Daryl and Rosie. "Close those doors. Watch for walkers," he said, his eyes wide. 

"Hello?" Rick called again. 

The loud clicking of a gun got the group spinning on their heels and aiming their own weapons towards the sound. Rosie frowned, her head jerking back a bit at the sight of two men stood near a stairway. One was holding a rifle on them, while the other was stood inside a devil's trap. 

"Is anybody infected?" the rifle holder asked. He was older, greying, looked both on edge and way too chill all at the same time. 

"One of our group was," Rick said. "He didn't make it." No one else seemed to be all that concerned with the demon in the room, but then Rosie figured no one else _knew_ there was a demon in the room. 

"Why are you here? What do you want?" He looked around the group, his eyes coming to rest on Rosie. She noticed that he'd positioned himself in such a way that the demon couldn't get to him and their group couldn't either, at least not without walking through the devil's trap. 

"A chance," Rick said, drawing the man's attention back to himself. 

"A chance at what?" He frowned. He looked way too confused for Rosie to feel at ease. 

"You know, just a chance, to live," Rick answered. 

The stranger surveyed the room again, looking at everyone a second time. His gaze lingered on Rosie again, she could feel it. She also _really_ didn't like it. 

"You have to let me test your blood if you want to stay," he said.

"We can do that," Rick said, relief spreading across his face and several others as they nodded in agreement.

The man lowered his weapon and gestured towards the outside again. "If you have stuff outside you should get it now. Once the door closes, it stays closed."

Daryl, Glenn, Rick and Shane all sprang into action, running back out to unload all their stuff. Rosie threw her keys to Daryl, waiting with the others inside the CDC. The doors closed and he nodded, gesturing for them to follow him. That's when the demon spoke up.

"And how in the holy hell d'you expect to get them all passed me?!" he asked. His tone was somewhat exasperated as he looked at the guy. His meat suit looked fairly young, late teens to early twenties if Rosie had to guess. " _God_ , you're one crazy ass angel..." he muttered, shaking his head at the older guy. 

Rosie took an instinctive step back. It got the angel's attention, and that of his trapped demon guest. Her heart was hammering and she felt a little sick. Knowing the angel, he was hoping _she'd_ deal with his little demon problem. Her hand gripped her angel blade tighter as she looked warily between the two. She felt Daryl shift beside her, as though he'd picked up on the tension and the way both men were watching her. 

"She's a hunter," the angel said, shrugging at the demon. "At least, that's what I think she is. She has an angel blade but she's not an angel..."

The demon scoffed. "Looks like she's had a few run-ins with your kind too, man. I saw that little step back she took when I called you out." He winked at her and Rosie scowled. 

"Hunters don't make friends with demons," angel-man growled, glaring at him. That made almost everyone else flinch and start looking at the demon like he was about to set them all on fire. Hell, Rosie would take the demon over the angel any day. She'd take him over a hoard of the undead, too. 

"You ever heard of the Winchesters?" Demon-boy laughed. "Those two boys were wrapped around Crowley's little finger!"

Rosie felt her whole body tense up as nearly the entire group slowly turned their heads to look at her, blood draining from their faces, feet instinctively stepping away from her, eyes wide with terror-stricken expressions.

The demon frowned at her and then started gaping. "No _shit!_ " he murmured. "You're the little sister, ain't ya?"

Rosie's jaw clenched but she said nothing. 

"You're a _Winchester_?" the angel mumbled, a little falter in his voice. 

Rosie just stared back at him, not really sure what to say to that. She thought it was pretty obvious. And her throat still really hurt.

"You gonna say anything, sweetheart?" Demon-boy asked, smirking. 

Before Rosie could respond, Daryl answered for her, a palpable snarl to his tone. "She can't talk. Got strangled by a ghost last night..."

The angel immediately dropped his gun, letting it hang limply by his side as he stalked swiftly across one edge of the devil's trap, too fast for the demon to catch him. Rosie jumped back as he came towards her, instinctively raising the angel blade and moving away from him as fast as he was moving to catch her. 

Demon-boy laughed long and loud. "Shes definitely had run-ins with your lot," he said. 

"I was just going heal you!" The angel snapped, coming to a stop.

Rosie also stopped backing away. She narrowed her eyes at him, angel blade still pointed at him. "I'm fine," she bit out. She was not going to be indebted to this asshole. Not before and not now, not with what the world had become. 

"Please...?" he asked. "I just want to heal you. Please, let me heal you," he said.

"She said no," Daryl snarled again. He had his crossbow pointed at the angel's head. 

The demon scoffed. "That ain't gonna do shit. Only an angel blade can kill an angel, man."

Daryl shrugged, still not backing down. "Figured as much," he muttered. "But I'm bettin' it'll at least sting," he added.

Demon-boy chuckled. "You're my kind of people," he said. 

"Shut up Steve!" Angel-man yelled. 

"Steve? What the hell kinda demon name is that?" Daryl said, giving both the angel and the demon odd looks. Rosie saw a lot of the group doing the same. 

"Mine, asshole," Steve said, glaring hotly at Daryl. 

Rosie looked at Daryl and shrugged. Daryl caught her gaze and held it. 

"He can heal ya?" Daryl asked, his voice almost soft as he spoke to her, though his crossbow was still pointed at the angel's head. 

Rosie nodded. 

"Why won't ya let 'im then?"

"'Cause she can't trust that he won't use it as leverage," Steve answered. "Ain't that right Asariel?"

"Leverage?" Daryl frowned, looking over at him. 

Demon-boy nodded. "Angels aren't all that well known for doing things out of the goodness of their hearts, at least not in the real world," he said. 

"This _is_ the real world," Lori whispered, stubbornly holding on to her silly little notions even in the face of angels and demons. 

Steve scoffed. "It is now."

"I'm not gonna hold it against you," Asariel sighed. "I promise."

Rosie gave him a flat look. 

"Winchester, remember!" Steve called, as though that said it all. 

"Honestly," Asariel said, holding his hands up. "I just want to help..."

"Annie," Daryl murmured, forcing her eyes back to his face. "'M not sayin' ya should trust 'im, but maybe ya should let 'im fix ya throat...?" 

Rosie sighed. Daryl was probably right. Besides, it wasn't like it was a demon deal. She lowered her blade and nodded at the angel. 

"Fine," she whispered. 

He stepped fowards, looking almost relieved. Rosie closed her eyes as he set two fingers on her forehead, feeling her neck start to warm and the pain quickly recede. Just as the last of the pain faded away, she was suddenly pulled into a torrent of unexpected memories, scene after unwanted scene flashing behind her eyes. 

Her whole body seized up and her breath lodged itself in her throat. It was like each scar was being inflicted a second time, each burning touch tingled on her skin and around her body. Her stomach lurched as she was forced to relive every piece of inflicted pain, saw the face of every man she'd tried so hard to forget, felt their breath on her skin and their bodies pressed against hers. 

She saw her mother die at the hands of the man who sold their services, felt the cold dread creep over her, realising she was truly alone. She remembered killing a man when she ran only a few days later, tired of the same routine and the same abuse, but now with no one to make it better afterwards.   
Flashes of the vampires who caught her, of Sam and Dean and the absolute fear and distrust she felt around them. Dean singing to her, every night. The feeling of dread and isolation slowly easing. The cases they worked. The people they lost. The bond they formed. The love she felt. The end of the world.

And then she was thrown into new memories. Memories of the people she was now stood with. The little half-life they'd tried to live. The friendships that formed, the observations she'd made. The arguments and the fights alongside the laughs and the smiles. 

Rosie gasped and staggered away from him the second he let up on rummaging through her head. Her hand trembled as she tried to raise the blade again but her legs gave out from underneath her and she just collapsed, her breath coming back to her in ragged sobs. 

"Annie!" Daryl fell to his knees beside her, trying to pull her face up to look at him. "What did you do asshole?!" he barked, looking murderously over his shoulder at Asariel. "What the fuck did you do?!"

"You shouldn't call her Annie," Asariel said simply. "Her mother used to call her Annie, after-"

"Say one more word and I will gut you where you stand," Rosie whispered venomously, pushing the words past her tears and the lump stuck in her throat. Daryl's hands slipped from her face as she snapped her head up to glare at the angel. 

"I'm sorry Rosanna, but I had to know," Asariel said.

"Know what?" Daryl frowned, looking from Rosie to the angel and back again. 

"If we were good people," she said, meeting his eyes. Hers filled with more tears as she tried to explain. "He read my mind...my memories..." Another sob clawed it's way out and she had to take a deep breath, forcing it to pass. She couldn't do this. She couldn't crumble. There wasn't time and she wasn't safe. 

Asariel moved to grab the angel blade out of Rosie's hand, but Daryl beat him to it, pointing it up at him. 

"I wouldn't risk it," he said, standing up and glaring back at him. 

Asariel took a step back, hands raised. "I don't know how you plan on getting us all past that demon without running him through."

"I's plannin' on askin' him nicely," Daryl growled. 

Steve chuckled. "Man I _really_ like you."

"That don't bring the rest of us much comfort," Shane mumbled. 

Rosie took a steadying breath and reached out to Daryl. He bent down and wrapped an arm around her waist, hauling her up beside him, all without taking his eyes off the angel.

Her legs were still weak, her body trembled and she felt so hollow she could barely concentrate. But this was her job, not Daryl's. This was _her_ world and she didn't want to go back to the one she'd been born into.

"I'm fine..." she murmured. 

"No you ain't," Daryl scoffed. 

Rosie blew out another steadying breath, slowly forcing herself to feel again. Her legs ached, her bones hurt and her skin stung all over. She pushed herself away from Daryl as her stomach rolled again, taking two shakey steps and leaning up against the wall, the contents spilling out of her mouth and across the floor. 

Several members of the group scrunched their noses up and shook their heads. Daryl stayed pointing the angel blade at Asariel. 

"Is that like a reaction to having your mind read, or something?" Andrea asked, looking at Rosie in concern.

"No, that's a reaction to a real shitty life you never wanted to live through again," Steve said, meeting her eyes with an understanding nod. 

"Her life was a _choice_ , just like the rest of ours," Lori huffed, folding her arms and shaking he head. 

Asariel frowned. "It didn't seem like a choice. Children can't make those choices." 

Rosie immediately turned to face him, one hand still on the wall and the other on her stomach. "Shut up..." she said, her lip wobbling and her breath gone again but her tone hard all the same. "Just shut up. Shut. Up." 

"You've been hunting monsters since you were a _kid_?" Lori said, in disbelief. 

"I don't want to talk about it," Rosie said, forcing her lungs to start regulating air again. 

"Are you going to tell your friend here that he's pointing this thing at the wrong creature?" Asariel asked, nodding at the angel blade. 

"No, because I'm not sure he is," Rosie muttered. Her hand slipped from her stomach as it began to settle slightly, but she still needed the solid wall in order to stay upright. 

"He's a _demon_ ," Asariel said in bewilderment. 

"I noticed," she said. 

"You okay now Rosie?" Daryl asked, glancing briefly over at her. She swallowed the newest lump in her throat and nodded. He hadn't called her Annie and she hated it. 

"To get to the rest of the facility, we have to get passed the demon and into the elevator," Asariel reiterated. 

"I'll let you pass," Steve said, stepping back with his arms folded. 

"You will?" Shane frowned. 

Steve nodded. "I'm betting the Winchester'll be back to let me out after spending a few hours with the angel," he snorted. 

Rosie pinched her lips together to stop herself from smirking at him. She wouldn't bet again him. 

"Vi, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here," Asariel said, pressing a button and speaking into an intercom. 

He led the group passed Steve, who stepped out of their way as promised, and into an elevator. The group listened to the building as it rattled and clanged, the elevator coming to life as it took them down. 

Rick held his hand out, introducing himself to the angel. "Rick Grimes." Asariel looked away. 

"Who was your vessel?" Rosie asked curiously, narrowing her eyes at him. She'd taken the angel blade back from Daryl as he'd helped her walk across the atrium to the elevator. Asariel eyed it up as he chose whether to answer her or not.

"Dr Edwin Jenner," he eventually responded.

The elevator hummed and Daryl looked at the rifle the former doctor was holding. "Doctors always go round packin' heat like that?" he asked. 

"The humans left them lying around. I familiarised myself. I've had to limit how much I use my powers since Heaven went down," he said. "I only use them when absolutely necessary."

"So why did you heal Rosie then?" Jacqui frowned. 

"Because she was in pain," Asariel said. "And I am an angel."

"Asshole more like," Daryl scoffed. "Celestial bein' or not, I can see through bullshit when it's right in front o' me. Ya healed Rosie 'cause it meant ya could get close enough to mind warp her."

Asariel scowled at Daryl. "She's not in any pain anymore."

"Physically," Daryl growled. 

Before Asariel could answer, the elevator stopped and the doors opened, the angel stepping out and leading them down a hallway.

"Are we underground?" Carol asked quietly. 

"Are you claustrophobic?" he replied. 

"A little," she said.

"Try not to think about it," he said. 

Rosie couldn't help but feel a little claustrophobic along with Carol after an answer like that. Trapped underground with what appeared to be a renegade angel. Steve was starting to look like the safer of the two options. 

They followed Asariel into a large room, drenched in darkness. He spoke again, asking Vi to turn the lights on and after some more humming and beeping, the room lit up. 

"Welcome to Zone 5," Asariel said, sweeping his arms out as he gestured to the whole room. 

"Where is everybody?" Rick said, frowning. "The other doctors, the staff?"

"I'm it. It's just me in here," he said. 

"What about the person you were speaking to?" Lori said. "Vi?"

"Vi, say hello to our guests," Asariel called. "Tell them, welcome."

"Hello guests. Welcome." A robotic voice answered his request and everyone seemed to deflate a little. Rosie wasn't surprised. She knew this place would be another dead end. Eventually, they all were. 

"I'm all that's left. I'm sorry," Asariel said. "I have access to Jenner's memories and I took over his responsibilities and his research."

"Well, at least we know Heaven was on our side," Shane sighed. 

Asariel looked at Rosie, his head tipped to the side, seemingly waiting for her to contradict her friend. She didn't have the energy to argue. Maybe it would be good for the group to think someone was looking out for them. Who was she to dash all their hopes and prayers?

"You don't have something to say to that?" Asariel asked, clearly looking for a fight.

Rosie shrugged. "What's the point. They never listen to me anyway."

"You saying Heaven _ain't_ on our side?" Shane frowned. 

"Heaven is on Heaven's side," Rosie said. She couldn't explain it any more simply than that.

Heaven worked in it's best interests. Sometimes that got a little blurry depending on who was in charge and what they thought was good for Heaven. But Heaven wasn't on humanity's side. It was barely on God's side. 

"What the hell does that even mean?" Lori hissed irritably, her hands on her hips. 

"Rosanna is under the impression that Heaven only works for it's own gratification. That it's entirely focused on the means to it's own end." Asariel looked at Rosie and smiled. It was forced and she could see that, but she wasn't sure everyone else could. "Heaven has always worked for the greater good."

Rosie scoffed. "Heaven is full of shit." It was about the only comeback she could give. She didn't have the energy for any more words. 

"Your life, all of it, and your brothers' lives...It was all part of God's ineffable plan," Asariel said. "It was written."

"Well it sucked," She said, barely containing her fury but refusing to give him anymore of herself than he'd already taken. "You _used_ them, the same way you _used_ me five minutes ago. To get what _you_ wanted." She could feel the tears at the edge of her eyes again, could feel the sting in her throat and the anger in her blood. "I've met a lot of angels in my life, and nearly every single one of you are self-serving bastards," she whispered, pushing her words past the rage inside her.

Asariel was now glaring at her. "I think that's enough."

Rosie couldn't stop. She was just too angry with this asshole who wanted to play by different rules. It was always the same. One rule for the mighty, the on-high, and another for everyone else. She was sick of it. "The only thing you lot ever ask permission for, is inhabiting a body. Other than that, you're no better than the demons. But at least _they_ can admit it." 

"I said enough!" Asariel waved his arm and Rosie went flying backwards, her back slamming into a wall and then her body crumbling to the floor.

Several gasps of shock resonated around the room and a few people took frightened steps away from the angel.

"What the hell was that for?" Daryl barked, frowning at Asariel and running over to Rosie. 

Rosie groaned and moved so she was sitting against the wall. Daryl knelt in front of her. 

"Rosie? Y'all right?" 

Rosie groaned again. "Stop calling me that, asshole," she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear her. She rubbed the back of her head and ran her hands across her ribs, checking for sore spots and breaks. 

"Call ya what?" 

"Rosie."

"S'ya name, ain't it?" he scoffed.

"Fuck off," she muttered.

"What the hell am I s'pposed ta call ya then?" he asked, frowning at her irritably. 

Rosie just looked up and gave him a flat look. 

"Annie..." Daryl sighed, going to argue and reverting back to Annie out of habit. 

Rosie smiled. She didn't mean to but she smiled. It grounded her. His voice was different. He wasn't sad or guilty or any of the things her mother ever was whenever she'd used that name. 

Daryl stared at her, one eyebrow raised, looking like he thought she was having some kind of breakdown. 

"I fucking hate angels," Rosie grumbled. 

"No shit," Daryl snorted. "Ain't a big fan myself if I'm honest." After a short pause he looked guiltily at her. "'M sorry. Shouldn'ta made ya let him heal ya."

Rosie shook her head and grabbed hold of the hand he offered her, hoisting herself to her feet. "It's not your fault."

"I'm sorry, I lost my temper," Asariel said. He didn't sound sorry and Rosie was pretty sure he wasn't but she nodded anyway.  
"I said I was sorry for looking inside your head too," Asariel said. "You don't seem to have accepted that."

"Sometimes sorry isn't good enough," Rosie said, the angel blade cool against the palm of her hand. She stowed it in the sheath still at the small of her back. " _You_ have to accept that."

"We were taught to forgive," Asariel threw back. 

"So forgive me for being less than you," Rosie countered, looking up at him.

Asariel took a moment to study her. His eyes raked over her face, his gaze rough and judgemental. "You don't believe you are less than me."

"But you do, and that's what matters," Rosie said. 

"Why don't you want them to know what happened to you? It would gain their favour, I'm sure," he said. "They're good people. I saw that in your head. A little ignorant, but good."

"They are," Rosie said, shoving her hands into her pockets. "But they're _my_ memories. And I don't want to share them."

Asariel shrugged. "Your mother went to Hell, by the way."

Rosie grit her teeth. "Figures. Now please stop talking."

"I thought you'd like to know that she got what she deserved," Asariel said, his eyes wide and all-too-innocent. 

"I didn't want to know," Rosie said, starting to lose her patience again. "I just want you to stop talking about it so I can forget it all again. _Please_."

Asariel smiled another unconvincing smile at her. "What you went through made you who you are," he said. 

"Stop. Talking." Rosie could feel her body start to shake.

"You should learn to forgive," Asariel said. The guy was fucking relentless. "Make peace with your past-"

"Just because you saw my life in flashes, don't think you have _any_ idea who I am." Rosie clenched her fists at her sides and stared him down.

Asariel held his hands up and nodded serenely. "Maybe you should stop pretending like you know exactly who I am then."

Rosie did know exactly who he was. He took what he wanted from her like all the others before him. Angel or not, he was a monster. He paid her in healing, and then he collected what was owed. He was no different from the rest.

Asariel nodded again as though he'd won that one and looked around the room. "Let's get those bloodtests going," he said. 


	6. Bleed With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl does his best to keep Rosie together all while learning that the CDC is another dead end, in more ways than one.

Daryl was buzzed. He was getting to be more than buzzed. He was on his way to fucking lit and he was happy to stay on that gravy train for the evening. Hell, if walkers got in and sunk their gnarly teeth in him, at least he could die happy, so there was that. Dale had just given Carl a taste of red wine. The whole group were laughing their asses off at his scrunched up little face, Shane even going so far as to tell him he should stick to soda pop.

Daryl was on the whiskey. Some good ol' Southern Comfort. Wasn't the best he'd ever had, also wasn't the worst. But it felt nice as it slid down his throat and into his belly, warming him up from the inside out. Was also kinda helpful in distracting him from the fact that Rosie had been sat on the counter top looking at no one and eating nothing, despite the fact that none of them had eaten in days. 

He looked over at Glenn and made sure to tell him he was _not_ to stick to soda pop as he shared out some of the whiskey he had in his bottle.

"I wanna see how red yer face can get," he said, a wicked grin on his lips.

Glenn laughed and took a swig from the wine bottle he was holding, tipping it up to Daryl in a kind of salute. 

As the group laughed, he went to sit back with Rosie, hopping up onto the counter next to her. She was absently playing with her fingers, her plate of pasta sat next to her, untouched. 

"Ya gotta eat," he said quietly, nudging her shoulder. 

She nodded but still made no move to pick up her plate. 

"Annie," he murmured. "Ya gotta eat." He wasn't sure how to take her pointed request that he go back to calling her by a name only her mother ever used, and by the sounds of it, under pretty shit circumstances. But she asked and it just sort of rolled off his tongue in a way _Rosie_ never did.

She sighed and then picked up her plate, spooning a forkful into her mouth as though it was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. She put the plate back down, covering her mouth as she chewed and then swallowed. He saw the way her body jerked, like it wanted to force the food back out. 

"There," she said hoarsely. "Now I've eaten."

Daryl wasn't sure what to do with that. He chewed on his lip, looking down at her every few seconds. Her legs were folded up underneath her, her hair hung limply across her shoulders, hiding her face. He tapped a finger on her knee.

"Why can't ya eat?" he asked. 

Rosie shrugged. He could have sworn he heard her breath hitch but she started speaking a moment later all the same. "I haven't locked up all my shit again yet. It's still kinda swimming in front of my eyes."

Daryl grunted. "Ya brothers never told ya that the best way ta handle that is ta get shit-faced drunk?"

Rosie snorted, the second real smile on her face since that douchbag angel fucked her up. "Dean might have mentioned it once or twice."

Daryl handed her the bottle of whiskey and she took a long swig. He grinned at her and nodded, picking up her plate of pasta and pushing it into her hands. 

"Fuckin' eat somethin'," he said. "I ain't askin' ya again."

Rosie shot him the sweetest smile and he had no idea what came over him, but he found himself winking back at her. He picked the bottle of whiskey up and poured as much down his throat as he could before needing to breathe.

He could handle his drink just fine, normally. But then, normally, he hadn't been starved for days and on the run from dead men walking. Normally, he didn't have some crazy girl all up under his skin and in his goddamn head. He even joined in with the toast to Asariel, despite thinking the angel was of the highest order of dickwads. And then Shane decided to bring the party down some. 

"So, when you gonna tell us what the hell happened here Doc?" Shane asked, looking up at the angel. "All the others that were supposed to be figuring out what happened. Where are they?"

"We're celebrating, Shane," Rick said, not really looking at him, which said a lot in Daryl's opinion. "Don't need to do this now."

"Woah, wait a second. This is why we're here, right?" Shane said. Daryl could pick up on the pointed tone to his voice. "This was your move. Supposed to find all the answers. Instead we...we found him." Shane chuckled humourlessly as he hitched his thumb at Asariel. "Found one man, why?"

Asariel frowned, as though he were contemplating how to answer in a way they could all understand. "I'm not a man. But I know, based on the doctor's memories, that when things got bad, a lot of people just left. They went off to be with their families," he said. "And then when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

"Every last person just left?" Shane said, unconvinced.

Asariel shook his head. "No. Many couldn't face walking out the door so they killed themselves instead." He paused, looking at the floor and shrugging. "He remembers that as a Bad Time."

"You didn't leave." Andrea spoke up. "You purposely came here, became this man. Why?"

"Heaven fell," he said. "And this was the first guy I came across who would take me." 

The table got real quiet after that. Daryl hadn't expected the guy to outright admit that he wasn't here out of the goodness of his own heart. That his heavenly ass wasn't sent here to exact some kind of devine intervention in their favour. 

Glenn huffed and shook his head, his eyes catching Shane's. "Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man." Shane at least looked like he was a little guilty. 

A little while later and the angel was leading them down a corridor lined with doors, explaining how the couches were comfortable and there was hot water. Rosie trailed along at the back of the group beside him, taking the whiskey every time Daryl offered it. She was well on her way to fucking plastered and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Asariel also pointed out the rec room, saying something about the kids finding some books and games they might like. He also told them not to turn anything on, since it would drain the power.

Daryl sank down into one of the couches while the kids started rummaging through the room. Rosie passed the whiskey bottle back to him, her eyes zeroed in on something across the room.

"No way..." she whispered, rushing towards whatever little gem it looked like she'd found. 

"What is it?" Glenn asked, coming up behind her. 

"Paradise, if it works," Rosie laughed, picking it up. "It's a battery powered speaker. And it's got an old ipod already docked in it. If it was turned off, there might still be some juice left in it. At least for a couple of songs."

"Turn it on!" Carl cried, running over to her. 

"I'm trying," she laughed again.

Daryl saw the moment it started to work, because her eyes lit up in way he'd never seen before. It kind of rocked his world if he was honest, not that he wanted to be, and especially not out loud. God, he wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to this girl flooring him the way she did. 

Rosie scrunched her face up and chewed on her lip. "Hope you all like Ozzy Osbourne. Looks like the previous owner was kind of obsessed..."

"What's Ozzy Osbourne?" Carl asked, his nose wrinkled up. 

"Oh little man," Rosie grinned, "you're about to get an education!" She fiddled with the ipod and the speaker for a few seconds, and then the most glorious sound floated through the air. 

" _All aboard! Hahahahaha. Aye aye aye aye..._ "

Rosie squealed and clapped her hands, immediately setting the speaker down so she could stand up and dance. The drink had definitely gone to her head, because Daryl couldn't ever remember seeing her this chilled out or relaxed. 

" _Crazy, but that's how it goes!_ " she sung, pointing at Carl and then gesturing for Sophia to come and join in. " _Millions of people, living as foes_."

Daryl watched as both Lori and Carol laughed, even Andrea broke out a little smile. Glenn of course joined in and the four of them were bopping along and twisting their hips to the sound of the song. 

" _Maybe it's not too late, to learn how to love and forget how to hate_..."

He'd never really listened to the lyrics of the song much but he had to say, he was loving them tonight. Rosie beamed across the room at him, pointing her finger and singing to him." _Mental wounds not healing, life's a bitter shame_!" 

He pointed back and sung along for the chorus, all red cheeks and smiles that he hadn't felt in years. " _I'm going off the rails like a crazy train! I'm going off the rails like a crazy train!_ " Go figure it would be the crazy girl at the end of the fucking world that got him laughing like an idiot. Drink be damned, most of it was all her. 

They sang along and danced to a couple more songs, the entire group howling when _Bark at the Moon_ came on. She wasn't kidding. The whole iPod was full of Ozzy songs, a couple of Black Sabbath tracks making the cut too. 

Finally, there was a lull in dance-able beats and they all came to sit down. Carl and Sophia sat on the floor, looking through some kind of board game and its contents with Carol and Lori. A few people had drifted off to the showers as they all took it in turns. Daryl wasn't too worried about a shower. He kind of figured there wasn't much point in enjoying a warm one when the chances were they wouldn't get to keep having them. 

Rosie dropped down beside him as the next song started, pulling the bottle out of his hand and almost draining the rest of it before twisting in her seat so her feet were in the air and her head was hanging off the couch cushion.

"Yer gonna regret that," he sniggered, taking the near empty bottle off her. 

She giggled. "I've regretted worse."

He smirked at her and shook his head. Knots. His stomach was in fucking knots. End of the world and a girl was starting to become the centre of his. 

"God I love this song," she sighed, breathing out and letting her eyes close as she sung along to it. 

The words seemed to hit Daryl square in the chest and he wasn't sure why, only that he kinda liked it. Maybe the drink had gone to his head too.

" _Give me your pain, give me your anger. Let me be your rock, I can be the pillar of strength that you need_." She sang so softly and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her, completely entranced. _"I can help you keep it all together, it's better late than never..._ "

Tomorrow he'd blame it on the booze. Tomorrow, he'd forget that Rosie hung upside down with flushed red cheeks, eyes fluttered shut and a smile on her face while she sang, was about the most perfect thing he'd ever seen. 

" _Lay your world on me, I can take the weight_."

Tomorrow, he could bury all the mini epiphanies he'd been having about this girl and forget that drunk words are sober thoughts. Even if those drunk words were all in his damn head. Tomorrow, not tonight. 

Tonight he was gonna smile down at her and let himself get lost in her voice as she sung. Tonight, he wasn't gonna flinch when she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers through his. Tonight, he was gonna just _be_ with her. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, just take a moment in time where everything was fine and they were happy. Because fuck it, they at least deserved that after everything they'd been through. 

He found himself singing along with her by the end, playing with her fingers still sat in his hand. " _Lay your world on me, I can take the weight._ "

He had to admit, he _really_ liked the sentiment in that song. As it ended, he looked around, noticing that everyone was starting to get up and leave. He drank the last drop of whiskey from the bottle, feeling oddly self-conscious for some reason, squeezed Rosie's hand and pushed himself up from the couch. 

"Where'a you goin'?" Rosie asked, her speech a little slow and tired. 

"Find a couch or a cot," he snorted. "I drink anymore'n my head'll be spinnin'," he said. 

"Mines spinnin'," Rosie answered, letting her feet fall from the top of the couch back down to the cushions. She held her hands out to Daryl and he took them, hoisting her to her feet and steadying her as she collided with him. 

"Ya okay?" he asked, snickering at her. 

She nodded, pressing a hand to her head. 

"Can I let ya go?" he said. He was excruciatingly aware of her whole body pressed up against his, thrumming with warmth and practically melting into him. He had a solid arm around her waist and she'd slung her arm over his shoulder. "Annie, can I let ya go?"

She shook her head and he felt her knees buckle for a moment, tightening his arm around her waist to keep her from slipping straight down his front. 

"So tha's a no," he muttered.

Glenn snorted and giggled from across the room, clearly in much the same state. Rosie waved a hand at him as though trying to shut him up, practically hanging off Daryl as she did. 

"I think it's time we get these two to bed," Dale said, chuckling and looking between them. "You take Rosie and I'll take Glenn?" 

Daryl hid his surprise at being trusted outright with the young, drunk girl. Especially considering he was also drunk, and old. There was no argument either, and he figured it was mostly because Shane had stalked off to have a shower. He nodded at Dale and then set his somewhat fuzzy attention back on Rosie.

"Hey, Annie, can ya walk?" he murmured, adjusting her a little in his arms. She'd gone even more limp than she had been. 

"That's one foot then the other, right?" she sniggered. 

Glenn giggled again as both Dale and T-dog dragged him past. Daryl caught Carol's eye as she played with the children and the woman merely smiled softly at him. He wasn't sure what to make of that, so he kind of chose to just ignore it for now. 

"Okay, 'm too drunk fer this shit," he mumbled, grabbing hold of Rosie's hand the other side of his head and making sure she was anchored to him with his arm still wrapped around his waist. "Come on girl, one foot then the other. Tha's exactly right..."

She giggled in his ear but followed through, stepping forwards slowly but with enough weight that he was sure he could walk her to a free couch before she gave out. 

"This is all gonna come crashing down t'morrow, i'n't? 'M gonna care again and s'gonna hurt and all my mem'ries is gonna come back and be right in my head," she said, her voice a little strained and high and awfully pained. "Right?"

Daryl wasn't really sure what to say to that, so he just kept moving. Rosie sniffed, and he felt a quiet sob escape her lips. He pushed open an office door, relieved to find an empty couch. 

"Daryl..."

"Yeah," he said, helping her fall gently onto the soft seats. 

"Thanks," she said, lying back and wriggling around, trying to get comfy. 

"Fer what?" he asked, frowning. He hadn't done anything that spectacular. He'd just walked her across the hallway and put her somewhere she could sleep it off.

"All of it," she mumbled, stretching out and yawning, rubbing her eyes and forgetting her tears. "Just all of it," she sighed, her eyes drifting shut. 

Daryl nodded, sighing himself. God, this girl made his chest _ache_. If this weren't the end of the world, he'd be running in the opposite direction so fucking fast. He shook his head, throwing a blanket over her before walking to the door. 

"Daryl?" she called out sleepily. 

"What?" he said, more of a huff in his tone than he meant. It was late and he was drunk and he didn't need anymore words that invoked _feelings_ in him. 

"Stay?" she asked. "In here. Can you stay?" 

He groaned. "Why?"

"I'll sleep better," she murmured. "Please?"

Daryl sighed, his head falling forwards in defeat. "Whatever," he said. "I'mma go find a cot. Be back in a minute."

"Thanks," she whispered, snuggling further into the couch and the blanket he'd put over her. 

He grunted before slipping out of the room, shaking his head at himself. He couldn't ever remember a time where he'd been okay with being someone else's bitch. He was pretty sure at this point Rosie could tell him to jump and he'd ask her how high, and he ain't never been like that with anyone, not even Merle. 

It wasn't odd that he was somewhat whipped, it was odd that he didn't much care. He'd given up trying to fight it and pretend like she meant less to him than she did. So like a dutiful guard dog, he went and found himself a cot and set it up next to the sofa she was sleeping on. Girl was gonna kill him some day and he was betting she didn't even know it. 

......................

The next morning Daryl woke up with his face in his pillow, listening to Rosie whine loudly. He shifted slightly so he could peek up at her from the cot he'd stationed maybe a foot or two from the sofa she was sleeping on. She grumbled to herself and whined some more before she realised he was awake and staring at her. 

"Sorry..."

"Fer what?" He frowned at her, wondering if she remembered much of last night or if she was just apologising for waking him up. 

Rosie scoffed softly and answered like she could read his mind. "All of it."

Daryl shrugged from his planked out position on the cot. 

"A good portion of it is your fault though," she said, scrunching her nose up at him and looking sorry for herself. 

Daryl scoffed this time. "How'd ya figure that?"  
" _Your brothers never told you that the best way to handle that is to get shit-faced drunk?_ "she said, throwing his words back at him. 

Daryl sniggered. "Mighta encouraged ya, never poured a bottle o' whiskey down ya neck though..." He watched her face scrunch up again and her skin pale slightly. 

" _I_ definitely poured a bottle down my neck," she moaned. "Fuck, I feel like shit."

"S'what happens when ya drink after bein' sober fer a long time," he muttered. 

"You seem fine," she huffed. 

Daryl chuckled and shrugged again, twisting so he was on his back as he flung an arm across his face. "I was wha' most people liked ta call a 'functioning alcoholic' 'fore all this shit. My natural tolerance ta booze'll take more 'an a few months ta go away." 

"You sound like Dean," she sighed. 

"Yer brother was a drinker?" he asked, looking up at her. 

Rosie grunted and shrugged. "He drank when he needed to sleep."

"And you?"

Rosie scoffed, a pained tone to her voice. "I didn't need to. I...I suppose I drew a line, in my head, you know?" She swallowed as her eyes met his. "Like, I had memories of before Sam and Dean, and memories of after. I think I found it easier to just draw a line, like it was two worlds. I slept fine knowing I'd left the first world behind."

Daryl nodded softly. He got that. He'd done the same when the world went to shit. There was Before-Walkers and After-Walkers, and it was graphic and violent and so, so bloody...but he'd still take After over Before any day of the week. He wasn't sure if that made him an asshole, considering how many people had to die for the world to burn. 

Rosie groaned again as she sat up, her pale skin turning even paler. 

"Ya gonna be sick?" Daryl asked, eyeing her warily. 

She shook her head. "Nah, I'll be fine."

"Come on," he muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the cot and sitting up himself. "Let's go get somethin' ta eat."

Rosie nodded and stood up, wobbling and reaching out for balance as her vision clearly swam for a moment. Daryl grabbed her hands and helped her steady herself, trying not to smirk at her. 

"Its not funny," she muttered, having caught sight of his lips as they twitched.

"Kinda is though," he said. "Ya look like a fuckin' wreck," he laughed. 

"Jeez, you know just what to say to a girl," she scoffed, taking a step and then grasping his arm again, leaning on him as he walked her to the door. 

"Don' girls like honesty?" Daryl teased, grinning softly at her from over the top of her head. She was practically clinging to him again, but at least this time, she could take most of her own weight. 

"Not that much," she grumbled. "No one ever tell you that you're supposed to call us pretty no matter what we look like?"

"A rose is as sweet if it's called by any other name? That kinda shit?" he asked, opening the door and guiding her through. 

"You know Shakespeare?" she said, a hint of surprise in her voice.   
"Yeah, I can read," he huffed, albeit a little defensively. He couldn't help it. It always rubbed him up the wrong way when people were surprised he had a brain. "Whooptie-fuckin'-do."

"Fuck off Dixon," Rosie said. "Its not like your persona screams a love for classical old English stage productions, is it?"

Daryl grunted. 

"What's your favourite?" Rosie asked, starting to ease up on using him as a crutch the more steps she took. 

Daryl shrugged. He never really had a favourite. "Hated _Romeo and Juliett_ , so anythin' but tha' I s'ppose."

Rosie hummed. "Yeah...wasn't a big fan of that one myself. I always liked _Much Ado About Nothing_ and _King Lear_. They were my favourites."

"Kinda liked _Midsummer Night's Dream_ too," he said. "The chaos was pretty cool."

Rosie nodded, smiling up at him as she turned her head. "You a secret Jane Austen fan too?"

Daryl scoffed. "Nah. _Pride and Prejudice_ can suck my balls. Wasn't a big fan o' her stuff, but I did have a soft spot fer _Emma_."

Rosie giggled and he felt warm again, watching the spark set back in her eyes. " _Emma_? That was my favourite of hers too."

"It was?"

Rosie nodded again, still grinning at him. "I liked the relationship she had with Mr Knightly. I liked who she was and who he was and how they came together at the end."

Daryl merely nodded, not really sure what to say to that. 

"What else did you like reading?" Rosie asked, chewing on her lip as she spoke. 

Daryl shrugged, grunting. He didn't talk about books with people because books meant education and opinion that mattered. What you liked and what you didn't said a lot about a person, and telling people meant opening yourself up to judgement. He learnt early that people like him weren't supposed to _read_ , let alone read anything held in high esteem. 

"I liked a lot of sci-fi stuff," Rosie said. "Anything that screamed alternate reality."

Daryl shrugged again. "Sci-fi weren't really my thing," he said.

Weirdly, he'd mostly enjoyed chick lit, which was embarrassing enough in secret, let alone out loud. He'd have to admit it came in handy when he'd started having sex. At least he had some idea of what to do and when, and he felt kinda proud of that considering his old man and Merle did nothing but call him a closet queer most of his life. It was like they couldn't understand that he didn't need to be completely self serving. He'd made sure every woman he was with was satisfied before he left, which was more than could be said for Merle. 

He looked back down at Rosie as they walked, swallowing as he banished all thoughts of sex from his head. He wasn't stupid enough to allow the two to occupy his mind at the same time. That was a rabbit hole he refused to fall down. He might have been drunk enough last night to entertain thoughts tinted in a slightly romantic lense, but he was sober now and also not stupid. It was the end of the world. There was no time or space for that shit to take hold. He liked her and he wanted to keep liking her and there was no way in hell he was gonna cross that line, ever. 

Rosie nudged him as they walked, no longer using him to keep her balance. "You okay? You look like you drifted there for a moment...?"

"M'fine," he said, nodding at her. "Head's a bit fuzzy..."

Rosie scoffed. "I wish mine was _just_ fuzzy. Feels like I been hit with a sledgehammer." She groaned, placing a hand against her forehead for emphasis. 

Daryl sniggered. "Ya look like it too."

"Fuck you," she muttered, her lips twitching somewhat. "Ain't like you're looking much better."

"Never said I did," Daryl said, opening the cafeteria door for her. "But since when have I said I cared 'bout how I look?"

Rosie chuckled, an amused kind of smirk on her lips as she walked past him. "It's probably a good job too. Most days you look fucking feral."

Daryl laughed at that and went to get coffee while Rosie just sunk down onto a chair opposite Glenn and groaned, putting her head in her hands as she rested it on the table.

"I feel you," Glenn muttered from across the way. 

Daryl set the coffee on the table next to Rosie's head as he took the seat next to her, sipping his own. 

"D'you put sugar in it?" she mumbled, pulling it towards her and sniffing it.

"Nah, jus' milk," he said. 

"Can I have sugar?" she asked. 

"Sure, ya jus' gotta stand up and walk a couple feet," he said, pointing to the sugar sat beside the coffee machine. 

Rosie whined and looked up at him with wide eyes and a pout. 

"Ain't doin' it," he said, shaking his head. "Ain'tcha slave."

"Never said you were," she grumbled. "Please though?" She was back to wide eyes and pouting. "Please will you get me some sugar Daryl? Please?"

Daryl rolled his eyes and pushed back up from the table, glaring at Glenn as he sniggered. T-dog was smirking as he continued to fry up the powdered eggs, but he was smart enough to keep his eyes trained on the task at hand.

After snagging a ton of sugar packets and a spoon he stalked back to the table and dropped them all beside Rosie. His eyebrows slowly rose higher and higher on his head as Rosie dumped every single sugar packet (and there were a lot) into her coffee. 

"Ya know," he said, "I'm not sure ya gonna survive if ya give yerself diabetes."

Rosie stuck her tongue out at him and he shook his head with scoff. 

He sipped on his coffee, watching as Rosie practically downed her whole cup in one go. He didn't know how she could drink it so sweet, 'cause it sure as hell didn't appeal to him. He actually liked the bitter taste, which came as no surprise to him. You are what you eat and all that shit. He figured it stretched to what you drink, too. 

T-dog started serving up the eggs he was cooking, smirking at Glenn as he went. Daryl paid more attention to his coffee than anything else going on around him, so he missed everything but the tense atmosphere that surrounded Shane as he sat down to eat his breakfast. He only really started listening when the angel left the room and everyone started following him. 

"Give me a playback for TS-19," Asariel asked the room as he walked back into the first underground room they'd arrived in last night.

"Playback of TS-19," the computer spoke as a loading screen appeared on the huge screen set in the far wall.

"Few people ever got a chance to see this," Asariel said as he turned to face them. "Very few."

Daryl looked up at the screen, chewing on his thumb. He got the feeling that he wasn't going to like what he was about to see. Something about the angel made him uneasy. Rosie stood beside him and he flicked his gaze towards her, only to find her looking as on edge as he felt. 

"Is that a brain?" Carl asked, looking from the scan on the screen to Asariel. 

"An extraordinary one," Asariel answered him. "Not that it matters in the end."

Rosie shifted beside him and he could practically feel the tension rolling off her in waves. 

"Take us in for the EIV," Asariel said, speaking to the computer again. 

Daryl moved forward to get a better look. It was like his feet carried him without thinking. Rosie stood back, arms hugging herself as she stared silently at the screen. 

"Enhanced internal view," Vi said as the image on the screen swung around and zoomed in. 

The room got quieter, like everyone was holding their collective breaths. He leant forward, his arms outstretched as he took in the images on the screen. It was bright with flashing lights and he couldn't help but draw parallels between what was on the screen and the pictures he'd seen of galaxies in space. It was beautiful and breathtaking, equal amounts fascinating and terrifying. 

"What are those lights?" Shane asked, Daryl's head automatically turning towards the only sound breaking the silence. 

"Its a person's life," Asariel said. "Experiences, memories...its everything." He waved his finger about before focusing on the screen just as much as the rest of them. "Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you." He turned back to look at them. "The thing that makes you unique and human." There was a gravity to his voice that conveyed both his awe and his disdain for the whole thing. Like it was one of the most incredible things to ever exist but at the same time entirely flawed and futile. 

Daryl folded his hands up under his armpits and looked at him, his brow twitching slightly with a frown. "You don't make sense, ever?" It was kind of jarring to realise that a person was made up of tiny pulses of light. That everything about him that wasn't physical, was basically a glorified disco going on in his head. 

"Those are synapses," Asariel said, pointing at the screen. "Electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says, does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death."

Daryl let out a soft, slow breath. That was some heavy shit right there. 

"Death?" Rick said, walking forwards with a frown on his face. "That's what this is? A vigil?"

"Yes," Asariel said, almost smiling. "Or rather, the playback of the vigil." 

"This person died?" Andrea said, stepping forward too, tears in her eyes. "Who?" 

"Test subject 19," Asariel said, his eyes flicking across the screen. "Someone who was bitten and infected, and volunteered to have the doctors here record the process." He paused, looking back at them all and then focused on the screen again. "Vi, scan forward to the first event."

"Scanning to first event."

They watched as the lights kept flashing, but this time, black roots sat in the middle, tendrils creeping out from the base of the skull and across the brain. 

"What is that?" Glenn said, voicing the only question in all their minds. 

"It invades the brain like meningitis," Asariel explained. "The adrenal glands haemorrhage. The brain goes into shut down, then the major organs. Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be, gone." 

Sophia looked up at Carol. "Is that what happened to Jim?"

"Yes," Carol answered, taking her hand. 

Daryl watched as Andrea's head fell forward and Jacqui seemed to take a moment. All the people they'd lost, the weight of each one, fell on them all in that moment. 

Asariel looked at Andrea as she sniffed and turned away, frowning a little. 

"She lost somebody," Lori said. "Two days ago. Her sister."

Asariel sighed and approached her gently. "I've lost people too. My vessel, Dr Jenner, he lost somebody as well. I know how devastating it is."

Andrea looked up at him but said nothing. Daryl wondered how much the angel could really understand. Whether he felt things the same way they did. He didn't seem too cut up about the whole thing. Not the way Andrea was. 

"Scan to second event," Asariel said, turning back to the screen. 

"Scanning to second event."

"The resurrection times vary wildly," Asariel said. "We have reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute, seven seconds."

Daryl watched Asariel as he spoke. Test subject 19 was someone. Either to him or to his vessel. That was way too specific for it to be no one. He looked back up at the screen and a chill ran down his spine as little tiny red lights started blinking and twitching. 

"It restarts the brain?" Lori said, looking incredulously at it. 

"No, just the brain stem," Asariel corrected her. "Basically it gets them up and moving."

"But they're not alive...?" Rick said, a question in his voice that was laced with the tiniest amount of hope. False as it may be, Daryl couldn't help admire the man for still having the capacity to feel it. 

"You tell me," Asariel said, stepping back and gesturing to the screen. The answer was obvious based solely on his attitude, but Daryl looked back up at the screen all the same. 

Rick shook his head. "Its nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark." And it was dark. Little red lights fizzing right at the base, near the stem, like the angel said. 

"Dark, lifeless, dead," Asariel said, throwing out synonyms they didn't need or ask for. "The frontal lobe, the neo cortex, the human part, that doesn't come back...the you part." He looked at Rick while he spoke, shaking his head for emphasis. "Just a shell driven by mindless instinct."

Out of nowhere a white light shone through the screen, leaving in it's wake a hollow line right across the brain. 

"God, what was that?" Carol said, standing up straight, the sudden movement having startled her. 

"He shot his patient in the head," Andrea answered for him, a painful lilt to her voice. "Didn't you?"

God, these people were lucky to be alive. Not one of them were all that strong or all that tough. Hell, they'd come all the way here for answers. Like answers were gonna fix anything. The world had gone to shit. Whatever virus or disease had taken over the world, took it good. There was no fight left to be had. When were they all gonna wake the hell up? He glanced back at Rosie to find her staring up at the screen, eyes filled with tears and her lips curved downwards. 

"Vi, power down the main screen and the workstations," Asariel said, walking back through the room. 

"Powering down main screen and workstations."

Daryl shifted. He leant back against one of the desks and chewed on his thumb for a moment, processing everything they'd just learnt. 

"You have no idea what it is, do you?" Andrea snapped, irritation and anger radiating off her. 

Asariel shrugged. "It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal, least that's what the docs thought..."

"Or the wrath of God?" Jacqui spoke up, a hard look in her eye. 

Asariel paused, in that way he kept doing. Like he was trying to add something heavy to whatever he wanted to say next. "There is that." His eyes shot up and found Rosie, and he tipped his head as he stared at her. "Do _you_ think it's the wrath of God?" 

Rosie fidgeted uncomfortably. It was obvious she didn't want to answer. 

"Come on," Asariel said, flinging a hand out at her. "Word on the street is that you actually met Him. You and your brothers. So, d'you think it's the wrath of God? D'you think He got angry and decided to end us all?"

Daryl wasn't sure how to process _that_. Zombie virus, sure. Wendigo and werewolves, no problem. Angels and demons, why not? God? Now that was a hard one to swallow, up to and including the part where Rosie had apparently met the guy. 

"You met God?" Jacqui whispered, wide eyes on Rosie and mouth agape. " _The_ God?"

"I've met a lot of gods," Rosie said, her voice hollow as she glared daggers at Asariel. 

"Including mine," Asariel glared back. "All the angels in Heaven and he picked the _Winchesters_ to manifest in front of."

Rosie stayed quiet. 

"So where the _HELL_ is he?!" Asariel roared, losing his cool. 

Rosie shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know." She sighed and raked a frustrated hand through her hair. "Last I knew, he took off with his sister after she turned the sun red." 

Daryl remembered that. He remembered a lot of people pretending like they knew what the hell was going on when really, no one knew jackshit. 

Asariel laughed loud and cold. "Took off? Really? To where?!"

"I don't know!" Rosie snapped back. 

"So what? He just left the world to fend for itself, huh?" Asariel growled. "Just like that?"

"Yes," she said, a very clear sting in her throat. Daryl could see the tears shining in her eyes again. "Yes. Just like that."

Asariel scoffed and shook his head, putting his hands on his hips as he leant back against a desk, looking at the floor. "I shouldn't be surprised. He was an awful parent." His eyes darted back up to Rosie, a nasty smile on his face. "Not as bad as yours though. I bet you'd rather have been abandoned than at the mercy of your parents."

Daryl watched as Rosie swallowed thickly, her head dropping as she chose to glare at the floor. She didn't tell the angel to stop talking this time. She just stood there, stock still, her fists clenched and her breathing heavy. 

"What? Have you got nothing to say to that?" Asariel goaded. "You're not going to tell me to shut up again?"

"Just stop," Daryl growled, stepping towards her and putting himself between Rosie and the angel. "Yer tryin' my patience, asshole," he said. "Ya been nothin' but a dick to her the moment ya laid eyes on her."

"I healed her," Asariel argued. 

"Fer a price," Daryl shot back. 

Asariel snickered. "She's been on the bad end of far worse transactions. Trust me. I saw inside her head."

"You're gonna shut your mouth and your gonna do it now," Daryl said, his voice shaking with rage. He didn't want to hear anything about Rosie from this fucker's lips. Her past was hers, and there was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him he was going to hate that story more than any other he'd been told, if she ever wanted to share it. 

"Or what?" Asariel laughed. "What are you going to do? All my celestial power and I still can't stop whatever this virus is. What's some low-life human like you going to do to me?"

Daryl didn't answer that. He couldn't answer it. What _was_ he going to do? 

"Daryl," Rosie called, her voice scratching. "He's not worth it."

Daryl turned his back on the angel and walked back over to Rosie. His eyes met hers as he came to stand beside her. Andrea had already started back up at Asariel, getting pissed at his lack of answers. 

"You okay?" Daryl asked, murmuring at her.

Rosie nodded. "Yeah, I'm just..." She let out a steadying breath. "I'm sad and I'm pissed, and I'm so sad. And I'm so fucking _pissed_."

Daryl scoffed quietly, not really listening to whatever argument was now going on with the others. "Sad and pissed. Got it."

Rosie hung her head and sighed. "I just can't believe, after everything, that this is how it all ends..." she whispered. 

Daryl took a deep breath and chanced a shifty glance at her. "You're sure it ain't God? Like Jacqui said?"

Rosie nodded. "For God to be wrathful, he'd actually have to fucking care."

"And he don't?" 

Rosie shook her head. "I wouldn't say so. He told Dean when he took off that Earth was safe because it had us to look after it. Specifically us. The three of us." She scoffed and shook her head again. "What kind of all-loving celestial creator does that? Just fucks off and leaves the weight of the world on one man's shoulders?"

Daryl frowned. "I thought you just said it was the three of you?"

Rosie shot him a sad smirk. "Dean was the only one there when he said it. And Dean's also the only one out of the three of us who takes the whole thing seriously." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair again. "Me and Sam, we don't try to make up for the fact that the Lord Our Father went out for a pack of smokes and never came back. Dean..." she cleared her throat and looked at her hands as she fidgeted with her fingers. "Dean feels like it's his responsibility. His duty. Like how when his Dad left to go hunt demons and monsters all the time, and he had to look after Sam. Dean practically raised him."

Daryl wasn't sure what to say to that. He couldn't imagine having _God_ put something like that on his shoulders. How do you ignore that? How do you forget about it when you know there isn't anyone else to pick up the slack? 

Daryl had never had much responsibility in his life. His entire existence consisted of keeping his head down, fading into the background, not getting beat on or arrested. The group they were with, the people surrounding them, they were the first thing he'd ever felt some semblance of responsibility for. And he'd be lying if he said he still wouldn't turn tail and run should the odds change. Daryl was a survivor. He'd never been anything but alone, though. He was only just learning what it was like to trust people and lean on others, to survive _together_. 

"S'that why your pissed?" he asked softly. "Cause all your brother's efforts have been for shit?"

Rosie shook her head, leaning back on one of the desks and folding her arms. "Nah, I'm pissed because there's nothing he could or can do about it. He can't _fix_ it. So he'll blame himself for it," she said. 

"But it ain't supernatural," Daryl said. 

Rosie nodded. "Won't make a difference to Dean," she said. "I mean, he's not stupid enough to think he could have stopped it or changed it or saved the world this time. But his default setting is guilt over shit he shouldn't feel guilty about. So he'll carry this for the rest of his life, knowing there's not a damn thing he can do about it."

Daryl sighed, having nothing to say to that. His brain picked up on the groups conversation again and he started to listen, hearing the despair in all their voices.

"I've been in the dark for almost a month," Asariel said, the tone of his voice so lost and confused. "And not just on Earth. With Heaven too."

"So it's not just here," Andrea said, looking for all the world like she really had been expecting there to be some untouched paradise. "There's nothing left anywhere. Nothing. That's what you're really saying, right?" 

Daryl blinked at their reactions as Asariel stayed quiet, his silence answer enough. God, there were so many moments when he couldn't help but think these people were idiots. What in the Holy hell did they expect? Dead people were up and walking, eating the living, and they just had this idea that it was only in their immediate area? Like the rest of the country, the rest of the world, were perfectly fine?! How much ignorance did that take?

He wasn't the smartest man left alive, but he sure as hell had a basic understanding of how a goddamn virus worked. He also knew how fucking selfish a man could be, and maybe that was where his hope of an untouched utopia had died. There was no way everyone who'd been bitten had bowed out graciously, signing up for a bullet to the brain. 

"Man, I'm gonna get shit faced drunk," he grumbled, raking his hands through his hair. "Again." He leant his elbows on a desk and tried his best not to lose his temper with the lot of them. Rosie shifted quietly beside him, the only other sane and rational human being left other than himself. At least as far as he could see. 

Dale's overly calm and way-too-nice voice pierced through his internal irritation.

"Asariel, I know this has been taxing for you, and I hate to ask one more question," he said. "But, that clock," he pointed to the massive digital clock set into the wall. "Its counting down." He turned back with a funny kind of look in his eye, like he already knew he wasn't going to like the answer. "What happens at zero?"

Asariel swallowed and did his best to sound blasé but Daryl didn't trust him. "The basement generators, they run out of fuel," he said. 

"And then?" Rick asked, looking more and more panicked and paranoid. He also looked guilty as hell, which Daryl supposed came from knowing that this whole thing was his idea. He wondered briefly how well Rosie's brother would get on with Rick, because he was pretty sure Dean was gonna hate _his_ guts no matter what he did. If he ever found them, that is. 

Asariel just walked off, his mouth set into a grim line. Daryl heard Rosie take a slow breath in, holding it. He got it. The angel wasn't answering and they were in the motherfucking CDC. Running out of fuel was most likely going to result in something decidedly _not good_. 

"Vi, what happens when the power runs out?" Rick asked. 

"When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur," she answered. 

Fucking great. Definitely _not good_. Rosie groaned softly from beside him and he shot her a small frown. 

"I just wish we could catch a fucking break," she murmured in response to his questioning gaze. 

Daryl scoffed. "I'm gonna go find me another bottle o' whiskey."

He watched as Rick, Shane, Glenn and T-dog took off, probably to try and fix the problem. The others all started wondering back to the rooms they'd been sleeping in. 

"I think I might join you," Rosie hummed, following after him as he left. 

He made a beeline for the kitchen and found what he was looking for. He unscrewed the cap and took a nice long pull, the amber liquid burning his throat as it slid down into his stomach, warming him from the inside out. It was like getting a hug from his Ma, that was how familiar and calming the sensation was.

He supposed that was not a healthy relationship to have with such a volatile drug, but it was all he had before The End, and now there was no time to question it. He wasn't sure he would, even he _did_ have the time. He passed the bottle to Rosie and she took a healthy sip, scrunching her face up at the taste. 

"God, that has not made my stomach happy," she groaned. 

Daryl chuckled, taking the bottle back and leading them towards the room they'd shared the night before. He didn't want to be around anyone else and he had this odd impending sense of doom sitting on his shoulders. 

"I've got a really bad feeling about this," Rosie murmured, following him into the room and taking the bottle as he offered it. 

"It'd be nice if everyone else woke the fuck up too," he said, throwing his head back and taking another big swallow of whiskey as Rosie passed the bottle back again. He was caught off guard when all the lights went out and then turned back on. 

"Emergency lighting on," Vi's voice sounded.

"Fuckin' great," he growled. 

"Air conditioning stopped too," Rosie pointed out, nodding at the ceiling. 

Daryl groaned. "We gonna fuckin' die today?"

Rosie tried and failed to suppress a snort, shrugging at him as she did. "Dunno. Maybe."

"Ain't fuckin' funny," he said, his own lips twitching. It was the worst time to catch a case of the fucking giggles, especially with this girl. 

"Would it be that bad if we did?" she asked, biting her lip as she looked at him, eyes all wide and sad and shit. Amusement all gone. 

Daryl shrugged back at her. "Dunno. What comes next?"

Rosie let out a heavy breath. "Our souls leave our bodies and go find peace in Heaven or damnation in Hell. At least, that's what happened before."

"And now?"

"Now?" she said, shrugging again. "Now we probably just float around in the veil. Never really at peace but not in pain either."

"Can yer brother reach me in the veil?" Daryl asked.

Rosie frowned at him. "Yeah, I suppose so."

"Then we ain't dyin' today," he huffed. "I'm not spendin' my afterlife with a fuckin' target on my back."

Rosie scoffed. "You really that scared of Dean?"

"Ain't scared. Just...figure gettin' you back to him is less effort than bein' hounded by him for the rest of eternity," Daryl said. 

The lights went out again and he sighed, getting up and heading for the door. He heard Rosie follow. He could hear voices coming from the corridor before he'd even opened it. 

"What's goin' on? Why's everything turned off?" he asked, hanging his head out the door frame, whiskey bottle at the end of his arm. 

"Energy use is being prioritized," Asariel said as he scooped the bottle out of Daryl's hand and carried on walking. 

Everyone started to follow him. Daryl followed the whiskey, only glancing back to make sure Rosie was with them all. 

"Air isn't a priority?" Dale asked, his tone almost sarcastic. 

"And lights?" Daryl said, coming up behind the man. 

"It's not up to me," Asariel said. "Zone 5 is shutting itself down."

That feeling of doom was getting closer and it made Daryl uneasy. The angel wasn't talking straight and if there was one thing that he hated, it was men who danced around an honest answer. 

"Hey," he called, irritation lacing his tone. "Hey, wha' the hell does that mean?" 

Nothing. Asariel didn't even bother to turn and look at him. 

"Hey, man, I'm talkin' ta you," Daryl called again, his agitation building. "Wha' do ya mean its shutting itself down? How can a building do anythin'?"

"You'd be surprised," Asariel said, still not really answering anything. 

Rick and the others came into view as everyone followed Asariel down the steps and back into the big computer room. Rick was on him as soon as he hit the bottom step. 

"Asariel, what's happening?" he asked. 

"The system is dropping all nonessential uses of power," Asariel answered. "Its designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. It starts as we approach the half hour mark." He pointed to the countdown clock as everyone rounded the corner and entered the room fully. "Right on schedule."

The clock read 31.28 and Asariel took a nice long drink of the whiskey he'd taken out of Daryl's hand as he paused at the small steps leading to the array of workstations. He held the bottle back out to him and Daryl snatched it out his hand, looking at him in disgust as the angel turned slightly to glance at them all over his shoulder. 

"It was the French," he said, as though that made any sense at all. 

"What?" Andrea said, frowning at him as he paused with his foot on the first step.

"They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know," he explained, turning back again. "Jenner said that while his people were bolting up the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, the French stayed in the labs until the end. They thought they were close to a solution." 

"What happened?" Jacqui asked. 

"Same thing that's happening here," Asariel said. "No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?" He scoffed. "Humans are just so _stupid_! And now you've not only ended _your_ world, you've also ended everything connected to it," he growled angrily. He stepped up onto the platform and Shane ran after him. 

"Let me tell you something!" Shane snarled, jumping up after him.

"To hell with this Shane," Rick cried, grabbing him and pulling him back. "I don't even care. Lori, grab our things. Everybody get your stuff. We're getting out of here. Now!" 

Daryl watched as everyone turned on their heels, ready to follow Rick once more. Man of the hour, man of action. Daryl didn't bother, he didn't have anything to grab. He turned to Rosie only to see that she was already clutching her bag, the strap of her duffel across her body as she looked on. He paused in his outrage for a few minutes, seeing her standing there, on the brink of despair. Before he could move towards her, try and bring her back from the edge, flashing red lights started up and a loud, blaring alarm filled his ears. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go and then season 1 is over. There will be a little break between 1 and 2 so I can write it and then hopefully post more frequently like I have with this part.


	7. Fallen Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry that this is so late! This is the final chapter of season 1. Season 2 will be posted in a week or two, so don't forget to subscribe/bookmark the series because it will be part 2 and won't be added to this fic!

Rosie blinked herself out of oblivion as the loud alarm sounded in her ears. She watched as everyone scattered like ants around her, following Rick's command. She took a deep breath and thought of Dean and Sam.

Chaos was not new to her. Being on the losing side of probability ratios was normal for her. She'd stood on the precipice of death more than once and found a way back. Life or death was just another every day state of being, so she focused her calm and took a steadying breath, thinking about how to fix this. How to solve this problem, one step at a time. 

Everyone was freaking out over the sirens, the computer had notified them that they had 30 minutes to decontamination and Shane was still yelling about grabbing stuff. She shut out the noise and the panic as the doors started to close, locking them in.

There were too many voices and her head was still a wave of bare memories and raw emotions that tore through her body over and over again. Drinking had numbed the immediate pain, but it was like her head had exploded and she was desperately trying to catch every tiny piece of shrapnel. She was trying to cope with a thousand crippling thoughts at the same time as keeping her head clear and her mind focused.

She saw Daryl go flying across the room at Asariel, murder in his eyes. Rick shouted for Shane to stop him. 

"Asariel, open that door now," Rick demanded, stalking towards the man. 

"There's no point," he said. "Everything top side is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed." 

"Well open the damn things!"

"That's not something I control. The computers do. I told you, once that front door closed, it wouldn't open again," he said. "You heard me say that." He looked up at Rick, his eyes fixed on him. "It's better this way."

"What is?" Rick snapped, turning to glare at him. "What happens in 28 minutes?"

Asariel turned back to the screen without answering. Rick shared a look with Shane and both men turned on the angel. 

"What happens in 28 minutes?!" Rick roared. 

"You know what this place _is_?" Asariel roared back, his eyes ablaze as he stood up. "This whole facility is a monument to the perfect balance that is human stupidity and intelligence at their finest. It protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff that you don't want getting out, ever! Stuff that should have been _destroyed_! But no! You had to keep it!" he raged.

"And after all of that, this place, this _place_. Its called the Centre for Disease _CONTROL_!" He put his hands on his head and looked around at them all like it was the most exasperating and ironic thing. "Where's the _fucking_ control? Huh?" He sat back down, starting to recover his cool as he tugged at the white coat he was wearing and focused back on the screen. "In the event of a catastrophic power failure and a terrorist attack, for example, HITs are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

"HITs?" Rick said, raising his eyebrows at the angel.

"Vi, define," Asariel said as Rick continued to look at him. 

"HITs - High-Impulse Thermo baric fuel-air explosives - consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear," Vi explained. "The vacuum pressure effect ignites the oxygen between 5000 and 6000 degrees, and is useful where the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired." 

Rosie put her hands on her hips and breathed in and out, watching the reactions of the group around her. Well, _shit_. At least it wouldn't hurt, there was that. She glanced across at Daryl who was looking somewhere between pissed and resigned. 

"It sets the air on fire," Asariel said, in case there was ever any doubt. "No pain. An end to sorrow, grief, regret. Everything."

Everyone looked at the angel like he was insane, which he was. Rosie couldn't work out why he hadn't left yet. Surely he knew that no matter how big the blast, _he_ wasn't going to die? She was shocked out of her train of thought at the sound of smashing glass, looking up to see Daryl lose it again. 

"Open the damn door!" he yelled.

Shane went running past him with an axe and someone threw a second one for Daryl to catch. The two of them started on the door, attempting to cut through it. Rosie sighed, shaking her head and biting down on her lip so the tears in her eyes wouldn't fall. 

The sound of the axes against the door reverberated around her head as she tried to find a logical way out. They weren't getting out without Asariel's help, but the angel was as catatonic as the rest of them. 

"You should have left well enough alone," Asariel said, like he had a sigh somewhere in him. "It would have been so much easier."

"Easier for who?" Lori bit at him, her lip trembling as she glared at him.

"All of you," he said. His voice was so sure that Rosie knew he'd reached his final truth. He was doing his duty as one of God's merciful soldiers. "You know what's out there. A short, brutal life and an agonising death." He looked at Andrea. "Your...your sister. What was her name?"

"Amy," Andrea said, looking up to meet his eyes. Rosie sighed inwardly, realising that Andrea was beginning to realise Asariel might be right. Hell, Rosie knew he might be right. But she'd been fighting all her life and she'd be fucked if she stopped now. She'd go out on _her_ terms and no one else's.

"You know what this does," he said, gently leading her down his path of enlightenment. "You've seen it." He turned to Rick. "Is that really what you want for your wife and son?"

"I don't want _this_ ," Rick said, his voice grinding with anger as he enunciated every word towards the angel. 

Shane leant on one of the workstations, puffing from all his brute force attempts at getting out. "Can't make a dent."

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher," Asariel said, his tone flat. Rosie figured as much.

Daryl came barreling towards him, axe in hand. "Well your head ain't!" he cried, going to swing it at Asariel. 

Rosie turned on the spot and ran her hands through her hair, trying to think of a solution. One that didn't involve trying to kill an angel. The only thing that could kill an angel was the blade she had in her bag. She turned back to look at him, wondering if what he really wanted was an out like all the humans had, if they chose to take it. 

T-dog, Rick and Dale all disarmed Daryl and pushed him back. Rosie watched him as he took to pacing like a caged animal across the other side of the room, chewing on his lip as his eyes flicked from person to person. 

"You _do_ want this," Asariel implored as he looked back at Rick. "Last night, you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead."

Rick looked down at Lori, a heaviness to him that Rosie recognised. Dean carried the same kind of weight on his shoulders. 

Shane looked vehemently at him. "What, you really said that after all your big talk?"

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I?" Rick said, looking back at his wife. 

"There is no hope," Asariel said. "There never was." 

"Can you just stop," Rosie snapped, finally speaking up. "Stop trying to drag us all down with you."

Rick nodded at her before turning back to the angel. "There's always hope," he said. "Maybe it won't be you. Maybe not here. But somebody, somewhere."

"What part of everything's gone do you not understand?" Andrea said, looking up at him and at Rosie. There was fire in her eyes, but it wasn't the fighting kind. She'd accepted her fate and she was good with it. 

"Listen to your friend," Asariel said. "She gets it." He stared hard at Rick. "This is what takes us down. This _is_ our extinction event."

Rosie silently took a small blade from her bag and dug the tip deep into the palm of her hand. She bit back the hiss that sucked past her teeth and lips, curling her hand into a fist and concealing the self-inflicted wound. She slipped the blade back inside the bag and stepped towards Asariel, twisting her body to face him as she leant on the edge of the desk beside him. She looked down at him, staring into his eyes for a moment or two. "I know you're scared. I get it. But just because you've made your peace with it, doesn't mean we all have."

"I'm doing what's right," he said. "I'm doing what is good and kind and just."

"No, you're being a self-serving asshole." Rosie kept her eyes locked on his, her bloodied hand coming to rest over the side of the workstation. "You won't die in this blast and you know it."

"I've got to try _something_ ," he whispered. "Do you have _any_ idea what it's like to feel this alone?"

Rosie scoffed and shook her head. "You've been inside my head, that's a stupid question," she said, drawing out the angel-banishing sigil that she knew by heart. Her eyes remained glued to Asariel's and she made no real movements. She just dipped her middle finger in the blood pooling in her palm and continued to draw swiftly and silently, never taking her eyes off him. 

Asariel stared at her for a while. "You wanted to die. So many times, you knew that death would have been better than what you had, and yet...you never ended it. Why?"

Rosie swallowed the lump in her throat and shrugged. "I don't know."

"You were afraid to die," he said, like it must be the answer. "You _couldn't_ do it. You were a coward just like the rest of us."

Rosie chuckled, the sound catching as she did. She looked up to the ceiling and shook her head again. He just didn't get it. "Death would have been kinder to me than anyone I'd met in my life. I wasn't afraid to die. I never have been."

"So what was it?"

Rosie looked back down at him. "I realised that after everything that had been done to me, after all the things I'd suffered...I deserved to win," she said, her voice a broken whisper. "I deserved to beat them, not to be beaten."

"And you think suffering out there is what? Beating God?" Asariel said, frowning at her. 

"I've never really lived on my own terms," Rosie said, finishing the sigil. No one seemed to have noticed what she was doing, and if they did, they said nothing. She made sure to keep the blood on her hand hidden as she swung her bag around and unzipped it. She pulled out the angel blade, holding it in her uncut hand and twisting it to catch the light. Playing. Teasing. Tormenting him. "I'll be damned if I don't _die_ on my own terms."

Asariel looked from her to the angel blade and back again, swallowing thickly. He wasn't afraid, he was practically salivating, which was just what she expected. 

"This isn't right," Carol cried, holding Sophia tightly to her as tears rolled freely down her face. "You can't just keep us here!" 

Asariel turned and leant forward, towards them. "One tiny moment, a millisecond, no pain."

"My daughter doesn't deserve to die like this," Carol sobbed. She pushed Sophia towards Dale as she scrambled to move up and away from the angel.

Asariel sighed. "Wouldn't it be kinder, more compassionate to just hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?" 

Rosie shook her head and looked down at him from her perch still on the desk. "Maybe it would be kinder. But we should get a choice," she said, her hand hovering over the sigil. She _had_ to play this right, because one wrong move and none of them were getting out alive. 

The sound of a cocking gun came from across the room and then Shane was charging at Asariel with a face so twisted in rage and insanity that Rosie flinched and jumped back, cursing herself as she did. She was too far away from the sigil now and it was all Shane's fucking fault. 

"Hey!" Rick cried, shoving into him and trying to stop the man. 

"Get out of my way, Rick!" Shane roared, pushing past him. He put the gun right in the angel's face, his breathing ragged. "Open that door, or I'm going to blow your head off."

Rosie didn't move any further away. She stood and watched, hoping that Shane's head cleared long enough that she could take her chance with Asariel.

"Do you hear me?!" he yelled again, the barrel of the gun still shoved in Asariel's face as his wide and manic eyes bore into him. 

Rick stood to the side of Shane, his back to Asariel. "Brother, _brother_ , this is not the way you do this," he said, trying to reason with him. "We will _never_ get out of here."

"Shane, you listen to him," Lori called, her voice equal parts pleading and demanding.

Rosie took a deep breath, looking at the madman as his insanity sunk deeper further into himself. She couldn't move. If she moved further away from the sigil her play would never work, but with Shane pointing a gun in the angel's face and unable to hear anything going on around him, she couldn't exactly put her plan into action. 

"When he dies, we all...we _all_ die!" Rick cried, trying to get his words to pierce through Shane's rage. "Shane!" he yelled, as Shane roared and then proceeded to turn the gun and unload on a bunch of computer screens to the side of them.

Everyone ducked as Rick wrestled with Shane. Rosie slunk closer to Asariel and the desk again as everyone concentrated on the chaos that was Shane and Rick. Rick finally got the best of his friend, pulling the gun out of his hands and knocking him to the floor with it. He stood over him, Shane panting on the floor as Rick raised the butt of the gun, ready to knock him out if he needed to. 

"You done now? You done?" Rick snapped, glaring at Shane. 

"Yeah, I guess we all are," Shane muttered, staring defiantly up at Rick. 

Rick stepped back and turned, passing the gun off to T-dog. 

"We're not," Rosie said, standing back up and returning to the desk. "We're not done. Not by a long shot." She leant forwards on the workstation, her hand hovering a whisper away from sigil as she looked at Asariel. 

Asariel looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"

Rosie twisted the angel blade around in her good and unbloodied hand. "You want to die. But you can't."

Asariel shifted uncomfortably. 

"You're going to let us out," she said, hard eyes locking onto his. "You're going to let us out and then I'm going to give you the means to die."

Asariel scoffed. "Or, Miss Winchester," he spat. "I could just overpower you and _take_ the blade."

Rosie shrugged. "You could. Question is, can you do it fast enough?" she asked. "Before my hand makes contact with the angel-banishing sigil underneath it?" She tipped her head towards her other hand and Asariel abruptly stood up, stumbling back a step, his eyes flicking down to Rosie's other hand and the small, bloody sigil behind it. 

"You wouldn't," he said, his voice not half as confident as his words. "You'll definitely die if you banish me."

"Right now, we're definitely dying anyway," Rosie pointed out. "What reason do I have to keep you here?"

Asariel scowled at her. "I'm only trying to do what's right."

"No, you're doing what's right for _you_ ," Rosie said. "Just because you're offering mercy, doesn't mean we all want to take it."

"So you admit, it is mercy," Asariel said, smiling at her. "And yet, you don't want it?"

Rosie sighed, wanting for all the world to strangle the infernal being. "Mercy is about _choice_ , asshole. If you take ours away you're nothing but a self-righteous dickwad with daddy issues."

"Daddy issues?" Asariel laughed. "You'd know all about them."

"Yeah I would," Rosie bit out, her insolence and anger burning up in her, throwing words out of her mouth with such conviction it floored the angel. "But at least my daddy never told me bullshit stories that fed my allusions of grandeur and turned me into a prick hell bent on earning an absent father's praise!" 

Asariel gaped at her for a moment before stalking forwards again, his eyes ablaze. "You sure you wanna play this game? Last I checked, my 'daddy' never turned me into a whore."

Rosie scoffed at that. "I'd rather be a whore than an angel."

Asariel growled. "These people don't deserve to suffer the life that _will_ await them outside those doors!" he roared, pointing at them as he did. 

"These people don't deserve for you to make that choice for them!" Rosie yelled back. 

"You are nothing but small-minded children!" Asariel argued. "You don't know your own minds. You don't know what's best for you-"

"Just open the goddamn doors!" Rosie snapped. "If I die a slow and painful death out there, that's on me. It's on all of us who choose to leave this room and keep trying. If you make me die in here, I _will_ make you live out there," she said, twitching her fingers near the sigil. 

Asariel looked at her, his jaw tense and his eyes hard. "Fine," he said, his shoulders dropping in defeat. "I told you top side is locked down. I can't open those." He walked over to another desk with a numerical keypad and scanned a card, typing a number in. The doors lifted open. 

"Come on!" Daryl barked, waving his hand as he headed for the exit.  
Rosie took her hand away from the sigil and turned to Asariel. She cleared her throat, not quite ready to give up the angel blade. "Your vessel, he doesn't want to live?" she asked. 

"His wife was test-subject 19," Asariel said. "It broke him. Badly."

Rosie nodded as she handed the blade over, turning and running for the door without looking back.

"Rosie, you're making a mistake," Asariel called after her. 

"Yeah, but its mine to make," she called back, not even twisting her head to look at him. 

She caught up with Glenn and the others as they started running up the ramp and out the door. When she finally looked back, she saw Asariel whispering something to Rick as they shook hands. It made her stomach drop. Lori had gone back for him, grabbing his hand and pulling him away. 

"Hey! We got four minutes left! Let's go!" Glenn yelled, holding Carl as Rick and Lori ran for the door again. 

Rosie stood in the doorway as T-Dog led Jacqui up the ramp, only for her to pull back and announce she was staying. Rosie's eyes met hers just briefly and she gave the older woman a soft nod. It was her choice, same as it was Rosie's to try and keep living. She turned and left the others to argue fruitlessly with her, glancing up at Daryl as she passed him.

"Jacqui's not coming," she murmured as he frowned at her, wondering what the hell was taking so long. 

Daryl nodded. "This life ain't for everybody."

Rosie scoffed, the smallest smirk on her face as she looked up at him. "Understatement of the fucking century."

Daryl smirked back at her as they carried on down the corridor. He looked back over his shoulder and frowned. "What the fuck is takin' 'em so damn long?"

Rosie shrugged. "I don't know, but I'm getting the hell out of here." She continued on down the corridor and up the stairs, running up them two at a time with Daryl on her heels. They still had the outside doors to open and she wasn't going to dwindle time by waiting for people. 

She broke through the doors at the top of the stairs leading to the atrium, Daryl still right behind her. Everyone else seemed to have caught up too, because there was yelling coming from all sides. 

"Shoot the doors open!" 

"Does it work?!" 

"Try, try, try!"

Daryl and Shane started going for a window with the axes again and Rosie just stood back, running a hand through her hair. T-Dog ran towards them roaring, a chair in his hands, attacking the impenetrable glass with every last ounce of energy he had. 

Rosie's shoulders slumped and she rested her hands on her knees, the cut on her palm stinging as she did. A sharp whistle cut through the air and she turned to see Steve still stood inside the devil's trap. She'd forgotten about him after getting wasted last night. 

"What's going on, Winchester?" he asked. 

"Building's about to blow," Rosie puffed. 

"Any chance you wanna let me out?" he asked, gesturing to his magical prison. 

Rosie frowned at him. She took a deep breath and tipped her head, contemplating him. "What about your meat suit?" she asked. 

Steve shrugged. "I found the kid rocking in the corner of a supply closet. He saw his whole family tore apart. He's not in a good way."

"And I'm supposed to just believe that?" 

Steve sighed and shot her a sad smile. "Ain't like I can prove it."

"How long have you been a demon?" she asked. 

"Few years," he said. "Not so long that I forgot what it was like to be human." 

Rosie stared at him a few moments before suddenly hearing the words "Get down!" being yelled by several people. She turned around just in time to see Rick drop a grenade next to the window and sprint back away from it. 

She ducked as the grenade went off, shattering the window. Everyone made for the opening, jumping out and onto the ground as they headed for the cars. Rosie looked up to see Steve's eyes on her. 

"Please?" he said. "It's not like I'm gonna die anyway. Just the kid. And I really don't wanna have to find another living being to possess." He gave her wry smirk and she groaned. 

"Fucking fine," she huffed, rolling her eyes and scraping a part of the trap away. 

"Thanks," he said, grinning at her. "Now let's get out of here." He held his hand out but Rosie knocked it away, running for the window with Steve following. 

She jumped down and pegged it across the lawn after everyone else, her new demon friend still running after her. 

"What the hell is he doing here?!" Lori screamed at her. 

"I'll explain later!" Rosie cried as they ran down the side of the road. Everyone jumped into the different vehicles, Rosie's car was parked behind Shane's. 

"I hope you know what ya doin'," Daryl muttered as she ran passed him, Steve beside her.

"Me too," she called back. 

She unlocked her car and slipped inside, Steve coming to sit in the passenger seat. He was puffing and panting just as much as she was. Rosie smirked as she stuck her keys in the ignition, movement out of the corner of her eye drawing her attention back to the building. Her jaw dropped as she saw Dale and Andrea making a run for it across the lawn. 

Not two seconds after they'd ducked down behind a wall of sandbags and the building blew. Rosie squinted and turned her head at the bright light as it exploded outwards, the heat of the fire licking her skin and washing over her. 

"Holy shit," she murmured, looking back at the rubble as it fell. 

Steve chuckled. "Holy shit indeed," he said. "By the way, thanks for letting me out."

Rosie shrugged and turned the key, the engine sputtering to life. "Don't make me regret it," she said. "If I have to kill you, I'm going to be so fucking pissed, I swear." She pulled out after everyone, bringing up the rear.

Steve grinned and nodded. "I'll be a good boy, I promise."

Rosie shot him a rueful kind of smile before reaching over and turning the radio on. The tape she'd been playing before the world went to shit was one of her favourites. She cranked it up a bit and hummed along to the tune. 

"Jefferson Starship?" Steve laughed, digging out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. 

Rosie grinned. "My brother hated them so much he named a new monster species after them. I think it physically hurt him inside when I said I really liked the band." 

"It should have," Steve scoffed. "I'm with your brother on that one."

Rosie rolled her eyes. "You could always get out and walk," she said. 

Steve shook his head. "Nah, I think I'm good listening to the terrible music, thanks."

"Thought so," she said. 

After a few minutes of silence, Steve spoke up again. "I'm not gonna stay with you guys, just so you know. I don't think your friends are gonna want me around all that much."

Rosie sighed. "No, probably not. Although, if you're willing to share the smokes, I think Daryl wouldn't care if you stayed."

Steve puffed out a short laugh. "I like him. Seems kinda hard but not in a shitty way."

Rosie nodded. She wasn't about to start conversing with a demon over a friend of hers. 

"He your fella?" Steve asked. 

"No," she said, keeping her eyes on the back of Shane's car. 

"You and him seemed real sweet on each other yesterday," he said. "I just figured there was something there, that's all."

Rosie shook her head. "No. We've got no romantic attachment to each other," she said. 

Steve shrugged and went back to puffing on his cigarette with the window down. 

"So, d'you get out of hell when it fell? A few years isn't usually long enough to get a pass topside," Rosie muttered.

Steve laughed. "Bingo, Baby. Absolutely correct."

Rosie rolled her eyes. "So what were you sent down for? You got a lot of sins?" She watched as he stilled, a tenseness settling over him. 

"No more than anyone else, I'd say," he murmured. 

Rosie sighed, resting her head in her hand as she lent her elbow out the window, gazing at the convoy in front of her. "Sounds about right."

"I'm not gonna lie," Steve said. "I was an asshole when I was alive. I did some messed up shit. But...I never really thought I was evil, you know?" 

Rosie nodded. 

"I got caught up in making terrible decisions," he said. "It's like I was on autodestruct for most of my life." He groaned and shook his head. "I didn't think I was _that_ bad though."

Rosie chewed on her lip and shrugged. "I honestly have no idea how the scales work," she said. "I don't know who decides where you end up, or how."

"I don't remember either," he said. "It's a blank. I just remember waking up on the rack."

Rosie scrunched her face up. 

"Your brother ever tell you about it?" Steve asked quietly.

"No," she said. "I never really wanted him to, either."

Steve sighed and shook his head. "Good shout, on both your parts."

The car got pretty silent after that. Rosie just followed the rest of them to wherever Rick was leading them. She flicked her gaze over to the demon every few minutes, contemplating whether letting him out was the best idea she'd ever had. He'd made a good point though, about having to find another body if she'd left him there. And the only people in her group immune to demonic possession were herself, Daryl and Glenn. She really needed to do something about that. 

By the end of the day, Rosie was exhausted. She'd spent the entire time since leaving the CDC in a perpetual state of overt alertness. The demon beside her was only half the problem, the idiots in front of her were the other half. 

Daryl had already saved Shane's ass by honking and hollering since no one else had noticed all the walkers zeroing in on him as he wondered leisurely back to the RV after a less than lucrative scavenger hunt. He'd only just made it through the doors, so close to ending up as walker chow. 

Rosie chewed on her lip and rubbed a hand against her forehead, trying to work out her next move. She wasn't tied to these people, but she also wasn't sat in a car with Daryl and for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to even contemplate leaving him behind. She groaned as she came to the frustrating realisation that she was essentially tied to _Daryl_ even if she didn't want to be. He was in her life now, and no part of her wanted to give that up. Especially since he was the only real life connection she had left. 

As they drove away from the stumbling geeks, slowly chasing after them without haste, she kept thinking about Sam and Dean. It was becoming more and more apparent that her chances of seeing them again were slim to none. In this big wide world, this huge ass continent, the odds were against them. She hadn't had time to leave a note anywhere near the CDC as they'd high-tailed it away from the walker-beacon it had become. 

She sighed as she pulled up behind Daryl's truck in a run down alley on the outskirts of the city. Daryl jumped out of the truck and looked back at her, jerking his chin in the direction of the RV and telling her with his eyes that she needed to follow. She bit back another sigh and just made sure she was armed, passing Steve a small knife as she got out of the car. 

"What the fuck is this gonna do?" he whined. 

"It'll do more than no knife at all," Rosie said, in a tone so devoid of argument that he actually shut up. 

She swung her bag over her shoulder and clutched her own knife in her hand, much larger than Steve's, before following Daryl. The rest of the group were all standing around now too, assessing the situation for themselves.

"I bet they're barely hanging on," Andrea said, like she was the newest authority on what to expect. "What makes you think they'll take in strangers?"

"Well, wha' with the guns we gave 'em, they'll pro'ly throw us a party," Daryl said, walking forwards, his eyes darting around the alley. "It's a good call," he said, throwing a look back at Rick. "For once."

Rosie followed the group through to a courtyard, still with no idea where they were or who they were supposedly friends with. Steve stuck close to her side and she begrudgingly had to admit that it made her feel far less alone. Daryl was at the head of the group, and he hadn't looked back at her once. She was pretty sure he was pissed at her, probably for bringing Steve along. 

"Where are the lookouts," Glenn murmured, looking at T-Dog and then at Rick. 

The group continued on around the corner. Rosie hung back, choosing to stay behind everyone else. She trusted Daryl but it didn't mean she'd trust new people just because he did. 

"Ah, son of a bitch!" Shane cursed.

Rosie heard the familiar rattle of walker moans, the squelch of flesh and the crunch of teeth on bone as she walked forward. Before she could even see what everyone was looking at, Lori and Carol grabbed their kids and pushed her back as they tried to shield them from whatever was around the corner. Rosie sighed, her hand gripped tighter on her knife as she watched the two mothers practically trembling as they wrapped their arms around their children. 

"Well that's not good," Steve muttered from behind her. 

"Shut up," Rosie hissed, glancing at Andrea to see where she was at. Andrea seemed to be free-falling into some kind of dark pit, which Rosie found odd since she'd obviously chosen to stay alive. She'd run out of the building the same as the rest of them. 

Rosie looked forward again, seeing some of the guys take a step or two back, putting them in her line of sight. She heard the walkers hissing as it got louder and narrowed her eyes as something settled over Rick and he went charging forward.

"To hell with the noise," he snapped, raising his gun and firing. 

Rosie immediately turned her back to him watching the way they'd just come as the others all joined in. Talk about ringing the fucking dinner bell. She swung her bag around so it was in front of her, ready to grab what she needed depending on what may or may not be coming after them. It was like they'd forgotten that it wasn't just walkers on the prowl. 

"I wouldn't exactly call that smart," Steve murmured in her ear, watching along with her.

"If I have to tell you to shut up one more time..." she growled. She was not in the mood to be told something she already knew. Especially not by a damn demon. 

Her gaze flicked towards Lori and Carol, seeing them crouched on the floor in a huddle with their arms over the kids' ears. Andrea was doing the same. God, it would be a fucking miracle if they all survived this. 

She looked back as Rick emptied the barrel of his gun, seeing the frustration and anger and sadness in his eyes. It was mirrored on nearly every face that had shot a gun in the last few seconds. Therapeutic to shoot the shit out of walkers, at best. Fucking siren song to anything out there with ears, at worst. 

"Come on!" he yelled, pacing forwards. "On me!"

Rosie followed the rest of the group as they ran after Rick, more walker growls getting louder and louder, coming from some other direction. She wasn't worried about walkers, they were slow and stupid. Stubborn and unceasing, but stupid nonetheless. Rosie was worried about the creeping things that could sneak around undetected and pounce when you least expected it. She walked backwards as she went after the group, her eyes darting to all the places that might hold more intelligent predators than dead men walking. 

They entered the building only to find dead bodies strewn everywhere. Everyone was on high alert and Rosie desperately tried to figure out what kind of place they were in and who was supposed to be here. It was ample evident that they were either dead or gone at this point. 

"Shhhh," Shane whispered as everyone bundled through the doors. "Keep your voices down." 

They started walking past the doors, each room holding more of the dead. The stench filled the air and invaded Rosie's nostrils.   
Sophia started crying as she looked into one of the rooms, seeing the dead bodies, blood everywhere. She turned into Carol, who didn't seem to be faring much better, barely holding back her own tears. Rosie felt for them both. It was a lot to take in. But it was also going to get everybody killed if they couldn't get it together and keep quiet. 

"Put a sock in it!" Daryl barked from the front, glaring at them. His shoulders were tense and he was on edge, the noise not helping. "Stop her cryin'!"

"You leave her alone!" Carol hissed, furious eyes glaring back at him. 

"Either shut her up or I will!" he snapped again. 

"Back the hell off!" Lori said. "And I mean now!" 

Daryl shifted slightly but didn't say anything else. Rosie was too busy looking over her shoulder, gazing at the door they'd come through to really take in the tension between the group. Maybe it wasn't the nicest way to speak to a child, but she did need to shut the hell up. 

"Are we staying or going?" Lori asked, her wide eyes looking back at Rick. The urgency in her voice was definitely warranted. They needed an answer, a decision, and _now_.

"We don't have the fuel," Rick said. 

"We hunker down for the night, okay?" Shane said, taking the lead. No one seemed to argue. He looked at Rick. "You, me, Daryl, we're gonna sweep the building, make sure we're alone." 

Rick nodded. He looked up at everyone else. "The rest of you, barricade those doors."

Rosie moved quickly out of the way as the adults started ransacking a room for furniture to stack against the doors. She helped pile cabinets one on top of the other, sealing off the doors. She couldn't help but think they were also sealing off their only escape route, but now wasn't the time to freak everyone out with that morsel of paranoia. 

Just as they'd finished, the distinct hiss and growl of a walker sounded, the shuffle of dead feet not far from the other side of the door. Everyone ducked at the same time, not daring to move an inch. Rosie found herself sat beside a trembling Sophia. Carl was clutching her hand but she still couldn't stop the whimpers that were coming out of her mouth. Carol looked back, trying to calm her with her eyes, unable to move but hoping that she could quiet her just by being there. Her obvious panic was certainly not helping, though.

Rosie shifted ever so slightly and put her lips right next to Sophia's. She cupped a hand around them and spoke so softly that only Sophia could hear her. 

"Close your eyes," she whispered. "Focus on just my voice, okay?"

Sophia sniffed but shut her eyes dutifully. 

Rosie lay a gentle hand on the girl's knee and started to sing, still so quiet that no one but her could hear. " _A fallen angel, in the dark. Never thought you'd fall so far. Fallen angel, close your eyes, I won't let you fall tonight_."

Sophia's breathing steadied and her body stopped shaking so much. She gripped on tight to the hand Rosie had left on her knee and Rosie let her. " _Fallen angel, just let go, you don't have to be alone. Fallen angel close your eyes, I won't let you fall tonight_."

Rosie listened out for the gurgles and grumbles, just waiting for them to die down and move away. As soon as the geek was gone, T-Dog gave the all clear and everyone scrambled to move further inside. 

They regrouped with Shane, Rick and Daryl in what looked to be some kind of communal area. Glenn had mumbled something to her about it being the home of the gangster-granny-savers and Rosie finally understood where the hell they were. 

"Upstairs is our best bet," Rick said, explaining the situation to them all and seemingly back in control. "We've cleared a few rooms, and we can barricade those if we have to. We'll be alright."

"Do you mean it this time," Carol said, her tone almost waspish. "Or are you lying to us like all the times before?" she asked, her voice breaking at the end.

"That's unfair," Lori said. "And no help at all."

Rosie couldn't say she disagreed. Carol was upset but no one made her follow Rick. He was doing his best. 

Rosie took that moment to shrug her bag off her shoulder and let it hit the floor with a soft thud. She unzipped it and pulled out a whole bunch of necklaces like the ones she'd given Glenn and Daryl. Everyone looked at her warily. 

"These'll stop all of you from getting possessed by a demon," Rosie answered the unasked question.

"Demon? Like the one you're standing next to?" Lori said, folded arms and eyebrows raised. 

"Exactly like the one I'm standing next to," Rosie said. "You're all sitting ducks if he decides to jump ship."

"Hey! I resent that," Steve muttered. 

"Why'd you let him out if he's that dangerous?" Carol said, clutching onto Sophia even more tightly.

Rosie sighed. "Because the blast wouldn't have killed him, and then he'd have been forced to find another body to possess. Only three of us were immune to that kind of invasion."

Glenn pulled his own necklace out from under his shirt and showed them all. Daryl's was visible as it was, and Rosie pulled her jacket back to show them her tattoo. 

"Just take a pendant, he's not the only demon out there," she said. "You don't have to like it, you just have to believe it."

The group silently took a necklace each and pulled it on over their heads. Rosie felt herself relax a little, knowing they were safe from at least one possible threat. 

Glenn broke the silence looking around the room and drawing everyone's attention to the carnage that was the dead. "What the hell happened here?" 

"What do you think?" Andrea said, as though it should be obvious. "They got over run."

Daryl scoffed and Rosie turned to look at him, the twitch of a frown on her face. His eyes met hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the bodies littered across the floor. 

"Something to say?" Andrea asked, folding her arms and looking pointedly at him, daring him to argue. 

"Yeah, how 'bout observant," he said, practically growling at her. His patience was thin and it was written on his face. 

Rosie wondered what he was still doing here. Like everyone else, he didn't have to follow Rick, but unlike everyone else, he could make it on his own. Daryl would have no problem surviving without them. She started looking around the bodies, trying to see what he'd seen. 

"Observant. Big word from a guy like you," Andrea said, surveying the room like she couldn't possibly have missed anything. "Three whole syllables."

Rosie knew that they'd definitely missed something if Daryl was speaking up. He'd seen something none of them had and she was too worked up to figure it out for herself. Andrea was being too all-knowing to hear him out. 

"Walkers didn' do this," Daryl said. "Geeks didn' show up 'til all this wen' down." He waved a hand at the bodies lying across the floor. "Somebody attacked this place. Killed all these people, took wha'ever they wan'ed. They're all shot in the head, execution style," he said, pointing at the dead. 

Rosie inhaled slowly, chewing on her lip as realisation dawned. She couldn't believe she'd missed it. She was so wired to see the supernatural signs of monsters that she'd completely missed the human ones. 

"Y'all worried 'bout walkers," Daryl said. "I'd be much more worried 'bout the people who came an' did all this..." He flung his arm out at the now very obvious massacre, driving his point home. He looked back at Andrea as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder. "Get a dictionary. Look it up. _Observant_." 

Rosie followed him as he stalked out the room, seeing that everyone had been appropriately schooled by the looks on their faces. She jogged to reach him, calling out but being blatantly ignored. He only stopped when she finally managed to clamp a hand down on his shoulder. 

"What d'ya want?" he growled, barely looking at her as he swung around to face her. 

Rosie glared at him. "Don't do that," she said, throwing his own words back at him. "Don't shut me out just because I pissed you off."

It took a minute of complete silence and then Daryl's shoulders slumped and he finally met her eyes. "Ain't shuttin' ya out."

"Damn well feels like it," she grumbled, folding her arms and staring him down. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No," he scoffed. 

"Other than leaving the CDC with a demon in tow, what exactly _did_ I do to piss you off?" Rosie asked. 

Daryl quirked a half smile at that. "Nothin'," he said. "Ain't pissed at you specifically. Nice ya think ya so special though," he teased. 

Rosie grinned at him, raising a challenging eyebrow. "I am special."

Daryl just shook his head, the smile on his lips fading but not completely. When his eyes met hers for the second time, they almost stole her breath away. "Yeah...s'ppose you are."

Rosie's grin faded into a softer smile, her teeth catching her lip as she held his gaze. "You too. At least to me."

Daryl dipped his head and cleared his throat, breaking whatever moment they could have been having. Rosie welcomed it, getting all twisted up now was not smart and they didn't really have the time, either. 

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and combed a hand through her hair. "I was so close to ditching everyone and just fucking right off," she murmured, waiting for his eyes to meet hers again.

Daryl frowned at her. "Why didn'tcha?" 

"You weren't with me," she said with a shrug. "I wasnt about to let you suffer these people alone."

Daryl sniggered. "Thanks. I think."

Rosie sighed and swung her body around, leaning against a wall, ankles crossed and arms folded. "I don't know how much longer we can all stay alive," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as she said it. 

Daryl nodded. "I know what ya mean."

Rosie blew out a wobbly breath and glanced back down the corridor, towards the room everyone was still sat around in. "I don't want to see them all die. I don't know if I can deal with that."

Daryl chewed on his lip as he looked back the way they'd come. "Don' we all gotta die sometime anyway?"

"Not like this."

He shrugged, his eyes going back to hers again. "You wanna bail on 'em? Right now?"

Rosie stared up at him without an answer.

"Come on," he said, egging her on. "You an' me, run away together?" He tipped his head in the other direction, towards the exit. "We can do the whole white picket fence thing. Get a dog and have a couple o' kids-" 

Rosie laughed, cutting him off. She shook her head and looked up at him, her eyes alight with amusement. "Daryl, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself if I took you up on that offer."

"So tha's a no then?" he sighed, feigning disappointment. "Summin' wrong with me?"

Rosie's eyes turned soft. "No. Nothing at all."

Daryl's lips twitched, the smallest smile still on his face. "Ya still hell bent on savin' people?"

Rosie groaned exasperatedly. "Looks like..."

"Figured as much," he scoffed, nudging her with his shoulder and making her stumble. 

She glared at him as he sniggered, slapping at his chest but unable to hide the twitch of her own lips. She waited a beat before looking seriously up at him. "You don't have to stay and save them with me, though," she murmured. 

"Nah, I know." He shifted, his shoulders almost tense. "But someone's gotta save you, after you save all o' them."

Rosie looked at him and she felt it. That weird connection so deep that meant it was impossible to leave one another. They could use all the lame ass excuses there was, but she was tied to him. She was tied to Daryl, and he was tied to her. She didn't know when it had happened or how, all she knew was that he felt it too. They were in this together. All of it. 

"Shit..." she hummed, staring up into his eyes. "I didn't...I didn't mean for this. I didn't mean to drag you into my world-"

"You didn't," he cut her off. "Your world found me, an' I can take the weight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this, I really hope you've enjoyed it so far. It's not finished yet, so if you want to keep reading, Part 2 of the series will continue in a few weeks! Thank you for all the kudos and comments 😊


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